


in the pale moonlight

by choi_kimmy



Series: in any version of reality, i'll still choose you [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cap Quartet is Everything, F/M, Friendship, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Soul-Searching, Strangers to Lovers, actress!Natasha Romanoff, and Romance duh, idk how to tag this fic, notting hill inspired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-02-19 14:09:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 40,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22845544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choi_kimmy/pseuds/choi_kimmy
Summary: "In the midst of chasing after shooting stars, she had lost herself in the abyss of the galaxy."In other words; Actress Natasha Romanoff decides to escape from stardom, disappearing from the spotlight and eventually finding herself entangled in the life of Steve Rogers, a military veteran who has no idea who she is.
Relationships: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Series: in any version of reality, i'll still choose you [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1540324
Comments: 230
Kudos: 364





	1. the black widow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [remy71923](https://archiveofourown.org/users/remy71923/gifts), [xo_stardust720](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xo_stardust720/gifts), [stevexnatasha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stevexnatasha/gifts).



> Hello, I'm back!!! This Notting Hill inspired AU has been in my head for the longest of time, and I've only just recently had the time to execute it. This fic is a work in progress which means that updates may be slower than usual as I have to juggle with work and other commitments too. But rest assured, I am determined to finish this fic no matter how long it takes (hopefully not too long). Also as this is an AU, Nat may be a little ooc but I hope you'll bear with me as the story unravels to reveal her past!!
> 
> As usual, thank you for reading and comments are always appreciated <3 much love to the fandom, always!

**_[BREAKING NEWS - NATASHA ROMANOFF DECIDED TO CALL IT QUITS?]_ **

_Amidst casting rumours and at the height of her career, A-list Actress Natasha Romanoff (34), caused quite a stir in the industry when she suddenly announced her indefinite hiatus during a press conference held by her agency, SHIELD Entertainment, earlier today._

_Romanoff, who began her career in the entertainment industry as a child actress, rose to stardom with the nationwide success of_ The Black Widow, _a TV series which spanned six seasons with Romanoff playing the titular character since 2009. She won numerous awards and accolades from her performance as Natalia Alianovna, a Russian spy and assassin who defected to the United States. The actress also starred in many other prominent movies of different genres, all of which made significant marks in her career, making her one of the most versatile actresses in the last decade. Romanoff had been a fan favourite to star as the lead female character in Alexander Pierce’s upcoming movie - one which film critics have penned to be highly acclaimed and predicted to be award-sweeping. Alas, it is clear now that that would no longer be happening._

_Subsequent of her announcement earlier this afternoon, Romanoff refused to give further comments regarding her decision, merely citing this as a much needed break. While she expressed her gratitude to her fans for their continuous support in the entirety of her career, Romanoff sought for their kind understanding in this current situation, and to respect her wish of going on an indefinite hiatus._

_Her agency, SHIELD Entertainment, had reportedly been equally shocked at Romanoff’s decision which, understandingly, had been decided solely by the actress herself. Even so, her manager, Nick Fury (63), has requested for everyone to give the actress some space, and to refrain from making baseless rumours regarding her decision. When contacted, fellow co-star and best friend, Maria Hill (36), had refused to make any comments as well, even though it was rather apparent that she had no idea Romanoff would pull this stunt without warning._

_In recent development just half an hour ago, it has been reported that Romanoff has left her condominium in Manhattan, and that her current whereabouts are unknown._

_For more updates on our favourite celebrity, stay tuned to Marvel Channel 616. This is Christine Everhart, have a pleasant evening._

* * *

In all honesty, Natasha did not expect things to spiral out of control like this when she stepped into the press conference earlier that day.

When her agency had contacted her days before to let her know that they were planning on holding a press conference for her, Natasha hadn’t so much as even _dreamed_ of spewing those words that had inevitably escaped her without warning that afternoon. The initial objective of the press conference was simple; address the unwarranted dating rumours that had been floating about in the internet between her and Dr. Bruce Banner, a scientist she’d met in one of Tony Stark’s gala dinner, an acquaintance she’d gone out for dinner with _once._

She and Bruce were just friends, for goodness sake, but the public was never going to believe that. Much to her chagrin, she had appeared on the front cover of various gossip magazines the next week with headlines that nearly made her scream. 

_“The Black Widow at it Again - a New Fling?”_

_“A Football Player, a Lawyer, an Actor, and Now a Scientist? Natasha Romanoff’s Myriad Taste in Men!”_

_“Say Goodbye to Matt Murdock, Say Hello to Bruce Banner - Natasha Romanoff’s New Romance!”_

_“Remaining Truthful to Her Titular Character’s Namesake, the Black Widow Finds a New Prey!”_

She was supposed to be immune to those rumours and gossip - Natasha should have known better. Public opinion of her, both good and bad, has never left since the day she was thrown into the spotlight, when she went from being a supporting child actress in a family sitcom to the lead actress in a primetime television series. Years and years of being in the entertainment industry, through harsh experiences and reality checks, had taught her to compartmentalise, focusing only on the positive and ignoring the negative. It was a daily mantra for her, one that she held close to her heart because it was all she could do to protect herself from being hurt by unnecessary comments from people she didn’t even know. 

But as she sat in that cramped hall that afternoon, surrounded by so many cameras and journalists just waiting to pounce on her, Natasha found herself in a state of agony, of not being able to breathe. She felt suffocated for some reason, even though doing a press conference wasn’t something that was unusual for her. She had quite literally grown up giving statements and interviews, so this was supposed to be a breeze, just one of the many press conferences she had participated in throughout her career. She even had a script ready in front of her, for goodness sake!

When Fury finished his opening statement and directed everyone’s attention to her instead, Natasha didn’t know how to explain it, but at that moment, she felt _tired_ . Exhausted beyond belief. Even though she had told herself repeatedly that public opinion of her didn’t matter, Natasha knew that deep down, it _did_. Devastatingly so.

In hindsight, she probably should have seen it coming. She thought of the days when she used to be so passionate in acting and receiving projects and casting offers; rumours that Alexander Pierce had been eyeing her to be his female lead would have set her excitement straight through the roof if it occurred five years ago. Today, casting offers no longer sounded as appealing as they used to be. Nothing sounded interesting anymore, even though Natasha acknowledged one or two partial scripts that she thought had brilliant plots. It was just that, she no longer had the drive to commit herself to a new project. All she wanted to do was to curl in her bed and sleep so Natasha began to reject those offers. Fury merely raised an eyebrow, but did not question her decision. He figured that she was making space for Alexander Pierce’s offer, which they all had anticipated but had not reached her yet. She wasn’t. 

Acting was supposed to be her dream, and for the longest time, it had been that. But something happened between those lines, something she couldn’t exactly explain, because one second Natasha had thought of acting as the only thing she could do, something she would devote her entire life to, and the next second, Natasha had shuddered at the thought of being behind cameras and screens. Suddenly, acting was no longer her dream. If anything, she had learned to loathe it. When she looked into the mirror, Natasha had come to realise that she no longer recognised the person in her reflection.

In the midst of chasing after shooting stars, she had lost herself in the abyss of the galaxy.

“Natasha?” Fury had called out her name, covering his hand over his microphone. He raised one eyebrow slightly, gesturing for her to say something. It snapped her out of her reverie, and Natasha cleared her throat. “Good afternoon.” She began slowly, trying to redirect her attention at the swarm of journalists and reporters in front of her, the flash from their cameras going off a few times. She didn’t even so much as squirm, having been used to it. “Thank you all for coming today. I believe there is something I ought to clarify to the public.”

Natasha had forced those words out from her mouth. Words she _didn’t_ believe in; there was absolutely nothing that she owed to the public, not a clarification, not a single word. They had no rights to meddle in her private life in the first place. She gave an inward sigh. That was the problem, wasn’t it? Being a celebrity meant signing away your privacy to the eyes of the public, to the front covers of gossip magazines - she was well aware of that.

The cameras clicked away as journalists began to scribble on their notepads, or to type on their laptops. Natasha swallowed the bitter bile rising in her throat, glancing at the piece of paper in front of her. “Um,” She hated how vulnerable she felt at that moment, how pathetic it was that she had to _clarify_ a platonic friendship she shared with another individual. Natasha sucked in her breath, then exhaled. 

Her eyes had glossed over the words on the paper, words she’d memorised from reading it multiple times during the car ride earlier, words crafted by her publicist that were approved by her agency; _Dr. Banner and I are really just friends. I can assure you that I am not dating him, nor am I dating anyone else. I doubt I have time for that, not with my priority being my upcoming projects._

Needless to say, those were not the words that tumbled out from her lips. If they were, then Natasha wouldn’t have had to hear the gasps that rippled across the entire hall in a split second. She wouldn’t have had to witness Fury snapping his head in surprise (and _nothing_ ever surprises that man) at her direction, his eyes widening. She wouldn’t have had to excuse herself calmly - another facade, because she was _trembling_ from head to toe, the weight of her words finally sinking in. 

She really should have just said what she was supposed to say. Then this frenzy of panic from everyone in the industry wouldn’t have happened. This sudden rush to pack her bags, and her impulsive decision to fly halfway across the country, then take a one hour boat ride to the most secluded place that she could think of, were probably _not_ the best ways in salvaging the damage she had caused. 

But as she stepped out of the boat, donned only in earthly tones, baseball cap and sunglasses, eyes taking in the calm, foreign surroundings, Natasha had an epiphany. A moment where her breath was caught in her throat, heart pounding in realisation that she had really _done_ it this time. She had really left _everything_ behind, all her glam and fame, glory and pride. For a moment there, Natasha forgot about the responsibilities she had tossed into the wind, all the potential unanswered texts and missed calls from Fury, and probably a bunch of other people she didn’t quite care about. She watched the few people around her, walking past her without even so much as glance her way. They were all in their own world, uncaring about the visitor standing awkwardly on the dock with her Gucci duffle bag. For the first time in a long time, Natasha was _invisible._

And it made her smile.

* * *

Natasha wandered around aimlessly until she spotted a dingy looking motel near the end of the street. Taking a deep breath, she walked into the small little reception area, where an old, grumpy woman sat behind the counter. There was no acknowledgement from the old woman that she had heard a potential customer walking in, so Natasha had to clear her throat loudly to get her attention.

“Good evening,” She said tersely, removing her baseball cap, but not her sunglasses - _just in case_. “Room for one, please?”

The old woman glanced at her briefly, her face impassive and completely unimpressed - much to Natasha’s obvious relief. Instead, she grunted, pushing a sort of logbook across the countertop - another relief to Natasha that this motel was as traditional as it could get. “Name, social security number or passport number and signature. 50 dollars per night.”

She scribbled across the page with the first name that popped into her mind, and then paused. She wasn’t going to risk using her credit card in case people (read: her agency) could track her whereabouts, so Natasha took a few notes from her purse and placed them on the countertop. “I’d like to stay for one week.”

The old woman muttered something beneath her breath that Natasha didn’t catch, but she figured that all was right, since she had accepted her money without another word thrown in her direction. Natasha watched as the old woman issued her a receipt, before dropping a key onto the countertop loudly. She huffed in a disgruntled tone, and Natasha was left wondering if this old woman was held at gunpoint to work here, or coerced in some manner of undue influence to be at the front desk. 

“Enjoy your stay, Ms. Rushman.” The old woman said in a robotic, rehearsed manner, clearly meaning none of her words. “Welcome to _Alaska_.”

* * *

Once she had settled down in the small-but-surprisingly-cosier-than-expected room, Natasha spared a glance at her black device peeking out from her handbag. The second she had made the decision to go off grid, Natasha had switched off her phone and left without looking back. She was almost afraid to switch it back on, knowing the amount of missed calls and texts she would have gotten by now, and most of them would be from people she could care less about.

She took another deep breath before pressing the power button. Natasha did it only because she didn’t want Fury to worry about her - she hated her job, _not_ her manager. Knowing that Fury would probably not rest until he heard from her again, the least Natasha could do was to assure him that she was alright. The second her phone was powered on, Natasha heard all the notifications beeping in, continuously and relentlessly for a solid 30 seconds, before all was silent again. 

Scrolling past her notifications so that she could at least get a rough idea of what to expect in the future, Natasha decided to call her best friend instead. Somehow, the thought of speaking to Fury at this moment was unsettling, almost as though she was ashamed of herself for letting him down. The dialling tune barely even started playing when she heard a click, followed by -

“ _Natasha, what on earth? Please tell me you’re alright.”_

Natasha sighed in reflex, covering her face with her hand before flopping down onto the bed. “I’m fine, Maria.”

“ _What happened?_ ” Maria asked, calming down almost at once, even though Natasha could still sense the hint of trepidation in her tone. “ _Where are you? Why did you up and leave like that without any warning? Did you really mean what you said during the press conference?”_

She didn’t answer her at once. Instead, Natasha resorted to just staring at the ceiling on top of her. “I don’t know.” She replied eventually. “But I don’t regret what I did.”

Her best friend sighed a little, but Natasha knew it wasn’t one that was judging her for what she had just said. It was one that was more of a worry than anything. _“Can you at least tell me where you are now?”_

“Not yet.” Natasha answered softly, closing her eyes. “I need some time alone.”

“ _Okay._ ” Maria accepted her response slowly. Natasha knew that it was never in her best friend’s nature to pry unnecessarily, anyway. “ _But you’re safe, right? Like really, really alright?”_

The corners of Natasha’s lips tugged upward slightly. She nodded by reflex, even though she knew Maria couldn’t see her. “Don’t worry about me. I’m a tough girl. You know that.”

She heard Maria chuckling from the other line. “ _Of course I do. Look, Nat, I don’t know what’s going on but I’m always here for you. Pepper, too. Promise me you will keep in touch, at least by texts.”_

“I will, Maria.” She promised, then asked. “Can you do me a favour?”

“ _What is it_?”

“Tell Fury not to worry about me. Tell him I’m fine and that I’ll contact him soon. I just don’t think I can face him now.”

 _“Of course.”_ Maria answered easily. _“But he’s not going to be pleased to hear that you’ve quite literally disappeared from the face of the earth.”_

“He’ll be fine.” Natasha shrugged nonchalantly. “And tell him _not_ to come looking for me. I really...I just really need some time to think everything through.”

 _“Okay, Nat.”_ Maria paused. “ _So what are you planning to do now?”_

Natasha lapsed into another silence as she thought of an appropriate reply. She drew in another breath before saying, “I’d like to find myself again.”

* * *

In the two weeks that had gone by in a blink of an eye, Natasha had explored most of the little town she had sought unexpected refuge in. In her time of exploring, Natasha had been as stealthy as possible, avoiding the crowd and exercising the most minimal amount of interaction with the people around her. She had no idea if the stars were aligned for her or if she really was that good at being discreet, but no one showed any recognition of knowing who she was. The best part was that when Natasha passed by a magazine stall, almost expecting to see her face plastered on each and every cover of all the entertainment magazines, she was pleasantly surprised to find that the stall only had issues dated three months back.

Needless to say, Natasha was relieved beyond words. She belatedly decided that she wasn’t going to leave this town for a long time, at least until she figured out the way forward, what she wanted to do with her life now. 

There was one slight, teeny, _tiny_ problem, though.

Natasha didn’t expect to ever hear herself _thinking_ about this but she almost wanted to laugh at her current predicament; how could someone with a net worth of 100 million be in this situation where she was _running out of cash_? At least, _literally_ , because she wasn’t going to use her credit cards nor was she even going to withdraw money from the ATM machine. There can be no room for risk, and Natasha was adamant in keeping herself off the radar. 

Based on a rough calculation and factoring food and laundry into the bill, Natasha knew that at best, she could only extend her stay one last time at the motel for no more than two days. She ran a hand through her hair in mild frustration, cursing herself for not properly planning this long-term getaway. If she had done that, Natasha would have withdrawn more money to keep in her stash. Now, she had two more days before she would lose the roof over her head (oh, the _irony_ wasn’t lost, trust her) - what was she going to do now?

“Good evening, Ms. Rushman.” 

Natasha nearly jumped out of her skin when the grumpy old receptionist greeted her from the counter the second she stepped inside - now that was a _first_. She whirled around, composing herself quickly before darting a polite smile at the old woman - Mabel, Natasha had found out just a few days ago, was her name. “Good evening, Mabel.”

Mabel did not smile back. Instead, she grunted. “You’re finally checking out tomorrow, aren’t you?”

“Um,” Natasha hesitated. “Maybe?”

The crease in Mabel’s forehead deepened. “Maybe?”

The redhead sighed before taking a few steps forward towards the counter. “I might extend my stay here...again.”

Mabel did not look impressed at all, which to be honest, was extremely odd. Did she not want any business for this motel? Shouldn’t she be grateful that someone was willing to stay here for so many days? Natasha shifted her feet uncomfortably, Mabel’s stare wearing her confidence down.

“I’m going to ask you something and I hope you’ll be truthful.” Mabel began again after a short pause, and Natasha’s heart immediately started racing. _Shit,_ was her first thought; _Mabel has realised who she is,_ was her second. Natasha felt the lump in her throat, but then furrowed her eyebrows when she realised that Mabel’s expression had softened drastically. “Are you hiding from someone? An abusive husband, perhaps?”

Natasha swore her heart nearly flew out of her chest. It was not a sentence she had expected to hear, but anything was better than what she had in mind. Before she could say anything though, Natasha figured her expression must have gave her away, that brief moment of fear where her truth was out in the open - which Mabel was probably misinterpreting as a silent agreement to her question, because the old woman heaved a sigh dramatically and reached forward to grasp Natasha’s hand.

“You’re a brave young woman.” She simply stated in such a kind manner that nearly threw Natasha into a state of utmost confusion. This was _not_ the Mabel she knew. The old Mabel would never have spoken two full sentences to her, let alone _smiled_ at her. This new Mabel was rendering her completely speechless instead.

“What…” Natasha tried to find the words in her mouth, deciding to go along with what Mabel believed in. “What gave away?”

“You’ve been paying us cash twice in a row.” Mabel shrugged lightly, just as Natasha took out her sunglasses, using that chance to avoid looking at the old woman. “Your behaviour, in general. You’re always so cautious of your surroundings. And you jump each time someone walks through the door, as though you’re half expecting someone to rush towards you and pull you away. Not to mention you’re always wearing sunglasses. There’s no reason to hide such pretty eyes unless you absolutely have to.”

That was seriously a whole lot of words at one go, coming from someone who barely spoke to her in the two weeks she was lodging in this place - and did Mabel actually said her eyes were _pretty_? Natasha did not allow her expression to betray her thoughts, even though she could sense a tinge of red creeping onto her cheeks. “Wow, Mabel.” She laughed dryly. “Were you secretly a detective before this?”

“Honey,” Mabel leaned forward. “I’m flattered, but you’re honestly just too obvious.”

Natasha bit her lower lip nervously. “Really?”

“If you’re planning on staying in this town for a long term, you should probably lose that cap and sunglasses. Do you see anyone else wearing those in this town?” Mabel wagged a finger in her direction. “I don’t think so.” 

She couldn’t help it - Natasha started to chuckle. Purely out of amusement. “Old habits die hard, Mabel.”

“I know.” Mabel dismissed her with a wave of her hand in the air. “You’re a city girl and that’s what all of you do. But you’re in a town that is cold throughout the entire year, with barely any sun. We _don’t_ need caps or sunglasses here, Ms. Rushman. You want to blend in and not attract attention? Heed my advice and stop wearing those.”

Natasha took in all of her words slowly. She nodded, in the end. “Thank you.” was all she said, unsure of what else to say. She would have left the conversation as that, if not because Mabel asked her another question just as she was prepared to edge away. “How long are you extending your stay here for?”

She lowered her gaze. “I can only afford two more days, tops.”

“But you wish to stay in this town longer, don’t you?”

Natasha nodded. 

“Why don’t you try finding a job here?” Mabel suggested nonchalantly before gesturing at the notice board in the corridor. “I’m sure some places are hiring.”

The suggestion from Mabel was simple, yet it made a whole lot of sense. Of course, why didn’t she think about _that_? Look for a job! She was open to that idea, of course - here, she was not an actress, but someone merely wanting tranquility. That was the only way she was going to get money, the only way she was going to be able to stay in this town longer. 

Natasha made her way quickly towards the notice board, noticing a few vacancies at once. Her heart swelled in anticipation as her eyes glided across the advertisements - Natasha was sure that the universe was either trying to mock her, or help her, because three out of four of those job opportunities were retail; being a sales lady, someone who had to always be _talking_. 

No, that was way too risky. She wasn’t too worried about the locals, but what if there was a tourist who would end up recognising her? Natasha shuddered at that thought alone.

She glanced at the last advertisement on the furthest left, and Natasha’s breath hitched. It was a simple flyer, barely any words on it, but she was immediately drawn by it. Because this job wouldn’t require her to speak to customers that could potentially expose her identity, this job wouldn’t require her to be in a crowd. No, this job was located somewhere near the outskirts of this town. It was a job where she wouldn’t need to interact with human beings, a job where no one would notice her, or even think twice of looking for her because it was simply the _last_ place anyone would expect A-list Actress Natasha Romanoff to be caught in, let alone _working_ in. 

It was a farm job. A freaking _farm_ was hiring. 

Natasha could not believe she was saying this, but this job opportunity was _perfect._

* * *


	2. natalie rushman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one where Natasha meets Steve Rogers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of you are wondering if I had specific reasons on choosing Alaska as the main premise for this fic. Well, I decided on Alaska because it's an underrated but beautiful state, also legit far away from NYC so it fits the plot of Natasha 'disappearing' from the spotlight completely hahaha. And there are farms in Alaska too, albeit the cold weather hence. :P

**_[NEWS - NATASHA ROMANOFF, STILL MISSING IN ACTION!]_ **

_It has been two weeks since A-list Actress Natasha Romanoff (34), made a shocking announcement of her indefinite hiatus from the entertainment industry during a press conference held by her agency, SHIELD Entertainment. Since that day, Romanoff has reportedly left New York City, leaving no trace of her trail behind._

_SHIELD Entertainment has, since then, issued an official statement asking fans not to worry about Romanoff. The statement cited the same explanation which Romanoff gave during the press conference; that she just wanted a break. Labelled as one of the most sought after actresses in Hollywood, Romanoff has always been actively involved in film and movie projects - she had after all, been working in the industry since she was a child. It would be understandable if she decided to take a rest, even though SHIELD Entertainment believed that she would soon be back from her “vacation”, hopefully in time for Alexander Pierce’s upcoming production. While Pierce had not given any official statement about casting Romanoff as his female lead, insider sources stated that the director had visited SHIELD Entertainment’s building just a few days ago. This could be a sign that Romanoff might just be coming home soon._

_Even so, the biggest question remains unanswered; where is Natasha Romanoff now and how is she doing? With many unanswered questions, rumours had begun to circulate that the actress has had some disputes with SHIELD Entertainment which led to her unprecedented decision of a complete hiatus from all her activities. This allegation was denied by her manager, Nick Fury (63), who said that it was unfounded and completely untrue. Nevertheless, fans cannot help but to wonder if her decision was influenced by some other factors not revealed to the public, or if it truly was as simple as wanting to take a break._

_Until we find out the reason why, please stay tuned for more updates. This is Christine Everhart from Channel-616, have a pleasant evening._

  
  


* * *

When was the last time she came to a farm? Natasha honestly had no idea. All she could think of was her last minute decision to grab her sports shoes hastily before leaving her condo in Manhattan; a decision she was really glad to have made as she trudged across the muddied pathway leading to the farm. Natasha tried to keep a positive outlook; sure, this was definitely _way_ out of her comfort zone, a drastic 180 degree change from what she had experienced in the city. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to be able to adapt, because if Natasha was anything, it was that she was quick at adapting to a new environment, however foreign it could be.

And also, _really_ , because she cannot afford to be choosy at this moment. 

When she set foot into the farm, Natasha was washed with a feeling she couldn’t quite describe, a crossbreed of emotions between peace and excitement. It didn’t take long for Natasha to relish in the feeling of knowing that _this_ was the right place to be, away from the hustle and bustle of the town, away from the eyes of the general public. If she was looking to stick to her plan of “disappearing from the face of the earth” - _Maria’s words, not hers_ , then there was no doubt that Natasha _needed_ to stay here. She _needed_ this job.

From afar, she spotted someone dragging hay across the vast field, towards a pen filled with - Natasha frowned - are those _goats_ ? Slowing down her footsteps, Natasha continued to observe the individual, noticing almost at once the grey t-shirt hugging his body, arms rippled with muscles and immense strength. She didn’t even realise that she had stopped in her tracks, one eyebrow quirked in curiosity because _damn, this man looks like someone who goes to the gym on a daily basis._

Before Natasha could pull herself together from how she was literally half gaping at him, the man turned his head to the side and spotted her. In a split second, Natasha snapped out from her reverie, taking a deep breath sharply. She adjusted her hair to the front, red waves falling down like curtains so they were covering most of her face. Her heart was racing, nerves jittering as she willed herself to advance forward - there was no turning back now. 

The man stopped what he was doing, straightening his back in curiosity as he watched her make her way towards him. Once Natasha was sure that he was within earshot, she started. “Excuse me,” Their eyes met in that brief second, and Natasha pushed herself to continue her sentence. “ _hi,_ I saw your job advertisement.”

The man frowned slightly, letting her words sink in slowly. “Job advertisement?” He repeated, his tone unsure and somewhat hesitant.

Natasha’s heart was still pounding, her mind repeatedly praying _please don’t recognise me please don’t recognise me -_ “This _is_ Wilson & Son’s Farm, right?”

Her prayers were somewhat answered, because this man didn’t look like he had any idea who she was other than being an awkward, strange woman in the middle of his farm. “Yes, yes we are.” He rubbed the nape of his neck, a sheepish smile of apology spreading across his face. “Sorry, I was taken aback because you are not someone I would expect to be interested in this job.”

Natasha crossed her arms, somewhat taking offense in his statement. “Because I’m a woman?”

The man quickly shook his head and hand at the same time, his cheeks flaring at the implication that he had judged her based on her gender. “No, no. It’s just...you look different.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Different?”

“Not from here.” He explained gently, not wanting to offend her even further. “You’re not someone from this area...or state, I would say.” 

“Oh.” Natasha responded calmly, before countering. “Well, _you_ aren’t who I’d expect to find here either.” 

It was his turn to raise an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

“You’re _young._ ” Natasha shrugged; that was what she had honestly thought of anyway. “I would have expected someone much older.”

The man chuckled. “This _is_ Wilson & _Son_ , after all.”

“So you’re the _son_?” The puzzles began to click, until he shook his head again.

“That would be my best friend, Sam.” He smiled a little. “I’m merely an employee here. So, Miss…?”

“Nat-” Natasha caught herself at the last second, that brief moment of hesitation made the man frown in confusion, but she simply cleared her throat. “-alie. Uh, _Natalie_ Rushman.”

He nodded, then jutted a hand out for her to shake. “I’m Steve Rogers.”

Natasha returned the handshake, keeping her eyes trained on him. “Hello, Steve Rogers. Is Mr. Wilson around?”

“Sam manages the farm now, ever since his father passed away last year. But he isn’t around today.” Her face fell a little at that information, but Steve quickly continued his sentence. “The good news is that Sam trusts me completely. There's only me and another guy, anyway. Which means, I could interview you and pass my neutral opinion to him. If you’re okay with it?”

She honestly didn’t mind, merely shrugging as she finally put on a decent enough smile for him. Steve gestured for her to walk with him, which she did, falling into step beside him. “So, Natalie. Where are you from?”

Natasha had expected such a question, so she was composed when she answered him. “As you’ve said earlier; not here. Quite far...I can’t really say, to be honest.”

“Oh,” Steve didn’t seem fazed by her uncertain reply. “okay. Any experience in the agriculture sector?”

Natasha grimaced just a little. “Unfortunately, no.”

“Alright, that’s not a big deal.” He said quickly, as if not wanting to make her feel bad. “Uh...how familiar are you with farm animals?”

“Enough to make conversations with.” She answered hesitantly, though truthfully.

“What about horses?”

“I learned horseback riding before.” Natasha’s eyes gleamed at the distant memory of her having to learn how to ride a horse for a movie years back. She added a beat after. “If that counts.”

Steve smiled a little, his face otherwise impassive, showing not a hint of judgement which Natasha was grateful for. “That’s something, I guess.” He said with a low chuckle. “I would assume fishing is out of your equation.”

Natasha looked a little bit embarrassed at that. She was completely _failing_ this interview, wasn’t she? “I’m a fast learner, though. Really.” Natasha stated hastily, as if to salvage the rest of her interview. “I’m...I have a good memory.”

He nodded before glancing into her direction. “Why this job, though? Why not...I don’t know, retail?”

“If you want me to be frank, it’s that I hate people.” Natasha said bluntly, earning an amused laugh from Steve. He shoved his hands into his pockets, nodding again. “You know what? Totally get that.”

“I just don’t want to be…” She racked her brain for the right words to say without exposing too much. “surrounded by people, if you get what I mean.”

“I do. Nature and animals are the best, that I can vouch for.” He agreed, but stopped in his step. Steve turned fully to look at her. “Look, Natalie, I appreciate your interest but...this job can be quite daunting for someone without any experience at all.”

She nodded, understanding his concern. Still, Natasha persevered, not wanting to give up. “But I’m willing to try.” She insisted firmly. “I can give you my word that I’m a hard worker. I haven’t had a single day off in my previous job. I don’t even have anyone here so you don’t have to worry about me having to go home to a family because I _don’t_ have any commitment. I don’t need to be anywhere. I can give this job my _all._ ”

Steve looked partially convinced at her words, his features softening. Was that sympathy in his eyes? Natasha couldn’t tell. She squared her shoulders and stood straighter, sympathy wasn’t what she was looking for. “Steve, trust me when I say that you will not regret hiring me.”

A few seconds passed by in silence, until he spoke again. “You said that you didn’t need to be anywhere. And that you were originally from...somewhere far. So where are you staying at the moment?”

“Oh.” Natasha’s shoulders slumped a little; that wasn’t something she had expected to hear from him. There was no reason to lie to him, so she continued. “Um, a motel in town. That’s the reason why I’m desperate for a job, you see. I’m low on cash and I really don’t want to lose the only shelter I can find...so…”

There was a long stretch of silence as Steve fell into deep thoughts, his forehead creased and his eyebrows knitted together. Natasha stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do. It was only until Steve met her gaze again that she cleared her throat and diverted her eyes elsewhere.

“Okay, tell you what.” Steve started again. “Let me discuss with Sam. We may be able to arrange something for you.”

She frowned automatically, unclear of what his sentence meant. “What do you mean?”

“I honestly don’t think it’s a viable option for you to stay in a motel for a couple of months.” Steve explained sheepishly. “It doesn’t seem very economical to me.” 

“So…”

“So...Sam may be able to help. See that little cottage over there?” Steve pointed at a distance while Natasha squinted her eyes to get a better look. “That’s where his mother lives, and there’s actually a spare room.”

Natasha whipped her head almost at once towards Steve, sure that she has heard wrongly because he couldn’t possibly be implying for her to move into the farm and live with one of the owners. “Wait, are you offering me a place to stay?”

He nodded once. “Yeah, I mean, why not? If Lucinda hears that you’re staying in a motel, she’d probably offer to do the same. Plus, the town’s quite a distance from here.”

Steve was right. It truly wasn’t economical of her to be forking out 50 dollars per night for a few months at the very least, and money in her bank was unattainable as long as she didn’t reveal her whereabouts to Fury and Maria. His offer did sound tempting; it was almost like killing two birds with one stone.

“What about rent?” She asked.

“Well, that you would have to discuss with Lucinda. I’m sure you can work something out within your budget.” 

_Within your budget -_ that was something Natasha has _not_ heard in a decade or so. “And what about the job?”

Steve smiled again, though he wasn’t looking at her. “I wouldn’t have offered you a place to stay here if you didn’t think you would get the job already now, would I?”

She nearly combusted with joy at that sentence, though Natasha kept herself levelled. She cleared her throat, a little nervous now that this was all truly happening. “Really? You trust me enough to handle all those farm animals?”

“Yeah, why not?” He shrugged nonchalantly before adding with a smile “You _did_ say you’re a fast learner.”

Natasha laughed. She did say that. “Well, thank you for the faith in me, then.”

“Anytime, Natalie.” Steve replied. “Honestly, I’m looking forward to seeing how you would adapt to life on the farm. It must be different from your usual life, I presume?”

Natasha inhaled sharply, suddenly a little wary. She looked at Steve again, but his expression didn’t give anything she was afraid of away. “Hey, can I ask you something?” He nodded, and Natasha braced herself. “Do you..by any chance know who I am?” 

She _had_ to confirm, if she was going to be working here for a long term, with him lingering around all the time. She had to decide if Steve was going to be a friend or someone who could potentially rat her out to the press. 

“Am I supposed to?” Steve returned with a slight frown.

Natasha didn’t know if she should feel insulted or amused. He was the second person after Mabel that Natasha had really interacted with, and truth be told, she completely understood why Mabel didn’t know who she was. But this man? He couldn’t be any older than her, maybe three or four years, but definitely not two decades or something. Did he really not know who she was or was he pretending not to? 

No, Natasha shook her head mentally, Steve didn’t seem like that sort of person, judging from their entire 15 minute conversation with each other. She would like to think of herself as someone who could read people well, and from the looks Steve was currently giving her, it was rather apparent that he was genuinely confused with her question. 

In the end she settled with a chuckle as an attempt to brush off her words as a joke. “Nope, I was just asking. Don’t mind that question, really.”

“Are you like...a famous person or something?” Steve quirked an eyebrow, but Natasha laughed as naturally as she could and shook her head quickly. “Oh, how I _wish_. I’m not.” The lie slipped out from her almost as easily as she was breathing. Natasha then diverted the topic. “When do you need me to start?”

He returned her question with one of his own instead. “When _can_ you start?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Eager.” Steve grinned, and Natasha was glad that he had placed her initial question behind him easily. “I like that. The others would be happy to know we have a new hire.”

At that second, Natasha was once again hit with a mild feeling of trepidation, knowing that tomorrow she would be meeting three other people who may potentially recognise her for who she really is. Even though her heart was pounding against her chest, Natasha remained calm and composed, putting on the best smile she could muster.

“Looking forward to meeting the rest of the team.” She lied smoothly - it was second nature to her by now.

  
  


* * *

Back at the motel, after informing Mabel that she had gotten the job and after a long warm shower, Natasha sat on the edge of her bed while staring at the wall. She wasn’t thinking of anything in particular, but she had come to realise that looking at the printed pattern of the wall was far more interesting than embracing her inner conflict. A distraction, if any.

Ever since she came back, Natasha had been wondering if she should finally call her manager. So far, she had only spoken to two people - Maria and Pepper, her non-celebrity best friend from the private high school she had attended. Even though Maria had texted her with a few updates of how the situation was back at home, and how she had asked Fury not to contact Natasha until she does so herself, Natasha could still feel the turmoil of conflict bubbling within her. She felt bad, for some reason, that Fury has no idea what she was up to or where she’d disappeared to; he didn’t deserve that, not when he’d been a good manager to her. Thinking about the mess she had left behind for him to fix was enough to make Natasha heave a heavy sigh, finally pulling her eyes from the wall and fixing her gaze onto her phone instead. 

She owed him an explanation. It was as simple as that. 

So even though Natasha didn’t feel like she was completely ready to talk to Fury, she still picked her phone up and dialled his number. Her heart hammered beneath her, and she covered her face into her free palm, praying silently for Fury not to pick up her call.

Who was she kidding? The line clicked in a matter of three seconds, and at once, Natasha exhaled the breath she had been holding.

_“Romanoff.”_

She could sense the edge of hurt and betrayal in his tone, however slight they were. Natasha swallowed the lump in her throat, her voice soft and broken. “Fury.” 

Natasha heard him sigh from the other line, a prompt for her to prepare in hearing the worst from him, half expecting him to launch into a lecture or even a scolding - she probably deserved one, after all. But instead, Fury merely asked her another question. _“Do you have any idea what is happening here?”_

Natasha did - of course she did, daily notifications from online news portals in her phone were sufficient reminders that she could be miles away from New York, but the consequence of her action would still follow her into every corner. Maria had told her that she was _everywhere_ on the entertainment news, and that there were still reporters crowding her condominium in Manhattan hoping they might catch a glimpse of her returning home. When she heard that, Natasha was grateful she’d made the hasty decision of leaving the city, far away from New York, because she couldn’t bear the thought of getting her pictures taken and posted everywhere on the internet at her most vulnerable moment.

“I do, and I don’t need you to tell me that.” She replied monotonously, ignoring the tight squeeze of her heart. 

Fury sighed again, pausing for a few seconds. Then, he continued. _“Are you okay?”_

“Yeah,” She whispered. “I am.”

 _“Good.”_ Fury said, all the frustration in his tone disappearing. His tone mirrored hers. _“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”_

In all of his years of being her manager, Natasha had learned that Fury was not an enemy. If anything, he was a friend, the closest father figure she has in her life. He treated her kindly; protective and trusting, almost as if she was really his daughter, even though he technically was employed to manage her career. Like Maria and Pepper, he was one of the few people Natasha trusted, so in that lapse of silence, she made up her mind to answer his question truthfully. 

“I wasn’t lying when I said I needed a break.” Natasha confessed in a whisper. “I felt suffocated. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t know what to do, and it was never my intention to say those things during the press conference. But they just...they just came out of me.”

Fury listened without interrupting her, and for that, Natasha was grateful. “I was tired, Fury. I still am, even though I’ve never been happier being away from all that spotlight.” 

She fell to a silence after that, a cue for Fury to say something. He picked it up after a few seconds, choosing his words carefully. Natasha just didn’t expect to hear an apology coming out from him. _“I’m sorry, Natasha.”_ He said, and the actress frowned. _“I should have noticed you were suffering.”_

A bitter laugh escaped her. “I don’t blame you. How could you? I keep everything to myself.”

 _“Still.”_ Fury persisted. _“I should have known.”_

“You _wouldn’t_ have. The Black Widow hides her feelings well.” She half-joked, hoping it might make Fury smile. She heard just the slightest shift of movement from the other end, and Natasha ended up smiling herself. 

_“Maria told me not to come looking for you, and I won’t.”_ Fury started again after a few seconds. _“But could you at least tell me where you are now?”_

Natasha sighed. “Somewhere far away from everything, is all I can say for now.” 

Fury accepted her answer without another word, asking a different question. _“How long are you going to be on this break for?”_

“Honestly,” Natasha frowned, her mind void of an answer she could give him. “I don’t know. As long as it takes, I guess.”

A few seconds went by before Fury spoke again. _“Alright.”_

“Thank you, Fury.” She whispered. “You’ll keep this conversation to yourself, won’t you?”

Fury’s reply came a beat after, without any hesitation. _“You have my word. Don’t worry about SHIELD. I’ll handle them.”_

Relief washed over Natasha as she heaved a sigh. She didn’t say anything else, closing her eyes to focus on the many tangled knots and emotions in her mind. After a long pause, Natasha started again. “Is it true?”

She could almost see Fury frowning from the other line. _“What is?_ ”

“Alexander Pierce.” Natasha replied simply. The rumour of the director visiting SHIELD was in almost every article she had clicked into out of curiosity - a habit she cannot forgo, even though she was miles away from the limelight. She honestly didn’t know how to feel about it - yes, it truly was an honour that her name was associated with a renowned director these days, but Natasha found herself wondering if it was worth it.

“ _Do you want it to be true?_ ” Fury asked.

Natasha groaned. It was not a question she could answer at the moment, so she remained silent. Her manager seemed to have gotten the hint that Natasha wasn’t interested in replying to his question, nor was she interested to partake in a longer conversation.

So Fury continued his sentence. “ _Take care, Natasha. You have my support, always._ ” 

Hearing that one simple sentence from Fury meant the world to Natasha, the corner of her lips curling upwards in reflex. Somehow, her heart felt lighter - it wasn’t validation that she had sought after when she made the prompt decision to disappear to Alaska, but now that she has heard those words from Fury, she felt even more driven to start her life afresh in this humble town. 

It was a new beginning for her. One that, if done properly, could finally lead her to genuine happiness. This time, as Natasha made her way towards the bathroom, she was fuelled by a sudden determination to make things right. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, still a little unsure of who she saw staring right back at her. But at the least, at that very moment, Natasha could finally recognise the gleam of life in her green irises.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I'll be able to stick to my plan of updating weekly. And I hope you enjoyed this chapter - comments are appreciated as usual, and thank youuu for reading!


	3. a new beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one with breakfast and boots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **#tw** for eating disorder/strict diet

**_[NEWS - CEO OF STARK INDUSTRIES, PEPPER POTTS, HAS NO CLUE OF NATASHA ROMANOFF’S WHEREABOUTS]_ **

_The female CEO of Stark Industry, Virginia “Pepper” Potts (34), reveals that she has no idea where her best friend, actress Natasha Romanoff (34), is at the moment._

_During the Stark Industry’s annual charity gala dinner, which was attended by many other celebrities, the absence of the organiser’s best friend did not go unnoticed. Romanoff, a frequent guest of Potts’ many events, had been expected to attend this charity event planned since six months ago. It was rather unfortunate that the actress never showed up during that lovely evening._

_When asked if she had any idea where Romanoff’s whereabouts is, Potts was quick to say that she didn’t, and that she had not spoken to her best friend since the day she had abruptly announced her hiatus. Potts wished for nothing more than Romanoff’s wellbeing, and told Channel-616 that she was confident that the actress was all right. She reminded the public to respect Romanoff’s decision, and stated that she would be back when she is ready._

_Amongst the attendees for the charity gala dinner were Maria Hill (36) and Yelena Belova (25), both co-stars from the television hit series, The Black Widow, and close friends to Romanoff. Hill had once again, refrained from giving any comment regarding Romanoff’s situation, while Belova merely wished that her ‘sestra’ was all right. She too, had nothing else to add._

_For more updates, stay tuned to Channel-616. This is Christine Everhart, have a pleasant evening._

* * *

  
  


"Natalie?" 

Steve had to blink twice to see if he was seeing the wrong person at the farmhouse’s doorstep. Since the last moment he’d seen her yesterday, Steve was completely and utterly sure that her hair had gone past her shoulders, wavy curls the shade of _red_ that he remembered thinking to have suited her fiery confidence and brought out the gentle green of her eyes. "Is that you?"

"Yeah," Natasha shrugged, unfazed at the clear look of surprise Steve was giving her at that moment. She ran a hand through her now shorter tresses, casually twirling a few blonde strands around her forefinger. "I wanted to try something new."

Her explanation wasn’t entirely a lie; although she _had_ been blonde before once for a movie some years back, _and_ she’d almost always had her hair in short waves just past her ears, Natasha had never been blonde _and_ short haired both at the same time. It was a decision that she decided to make in the bathroom of her motel room, after staring at the bottles of hair dye she had abruptly purchased on her way back and a pair of scissors she’d found lying in one of the drawers. After her phone call with Fury, Natasha had peered at her reflection in the mirror, deciding to study her appearance. She saw the exhaustion evident in the dark circles just beneath her eyes. She ran a hand through her red waves, once bright and fierce like the sun, full of joy and wonder. Now, they have become dull, somewhat lacklustre. 

She knew she had to do something about it. While it was definitely a bold decision to make, Natasha was partly fuelled by her concern that her natural hairstyle was too striking to adorn in a town she wanted to stay hidden. 

Even if Steve did not show any recognition of her true identity, Natasha was hesitant to believe that his company would share the same oblivion as him. She would, after all, be working on the farm for a long time. Leaving no room for any chances, Natasha had taken the scissors, a deep breath, and snipped a few inches of her hair away. If her hairstylist, Daisy Johnson, could see her right now, she would probably faint at the travesty sight of her tresses. She didn’t even care about how uneven the length of her hair was, how sloppy her cutting had been.

She felt liberated. 

But Natasha didn’t tell Steve that, of course. She settled for that simple response instead, throwing him a small smile. He responded with a slight shrug before smiling sheepishly. “I think I like the red better. Not that you don’t look good in blonde, of course.” 

She chuckled, not at all offended. “Thankfully, I was _not_ looking for validation.” 

“As long as you are comfortable with it.” Steve nodded in agreement before ushering her inside the farmhouse. “That is all that matters.”

Natasha merely shrugged, tailing Steve as he started to walk towards where she presumed was the dining area. She could hear the gradual increase of chatters and laughter filing the four walls as the smell of freshly made pancakes wafted through the air. Natasha felt the nervous knots in her stomach even before she entered the dining area. She had half a mind to just turn around and make a dash for the front door, but Natasha suppressed that urge the second Steve turned to look at her. “You’re just in time for breakfast. I hope you’re hungry.”

Natasha wasn’t expecting breakfast when she arrived on the farm that morning. She had chosen a set of clothing that she deemed appropriate enough for farming, ready to dive right into dragging hay across the field, feeding livestocks and doing whatever it was that farmers would usually do. She had been determined to prove Steve wrong, that she was cut out for the farming life even though she had flopped the interview with him. 

Which was probably why she had looked more surprised than she should, because Steve had raised a mildly concerned eyebrow into her direction and paused just two steps away from the archway. “You alright?”

“Yes.” Natasha replied hastily. “I just...wasn’t expecting to be fed.”

Steve nearly broke into a laughter, catching himself at the very last second when he realised that the woman in front of him _wasn’t_ joking. “What, did you think we were going to starve you? Breakfast is a _must_ around here.”

Natasha didn’t know how to respond to that, not even when Steve gestured her forward. Before she could find the words, Natasha was greeted by three unfamiliar faces looking straight into her direction. Immediately, her heart started to race. There wasn’t even a chance for her to truly compose herself, because at once, the elderly woman standing nearest to her - Lucinda, she assumed - had rushed to her side, eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. 

“You must be Natalie!” Lucinda said, clasping her hands together. “Steve told us you would be coming today, have you eaten? There’s plenty of food if you haven’t.”

Natasha could feel the lump latching onto her throat. Still, she forced herself to smile, casting her eyes at the dining table filled with plates of eggs and bacon, freshly toast bread and piles of pancakes. A little overwhelmed, Natasha tore her gaze from breakfast, exchanging a nervous glance with Steve instead. 

In an attempt to ease the discomfort she was clearly displaying, Steve cleared his throat and spoke again. “Lucinda, you haven’t even introduced yourself yet.” 

“ _Oh_ ,” Lucinda waved a hand in the air embarrassingly. “Where are my manners? Sorry, Natalie dear. I’m Lucinda, lady owner of this humble little farm. There’s Sam over there, my boy if you can’t tell.”

Natasha’s eyes naturally fell onto the man who had stood up and gave her a little wave. “Hey, Natalie.” He said with a smile, and Natasha greeted him back politely. Heart still drumming beneath her, Natasha kept her fingers crossed, hoping that no one was going to jump up suddenly and exclaim that she was _the_ Natasha Romanoff. She looked to Sam’s left, meeting eyes with another man who was bearing a sheepish grin on his face. “I’m James. You can call me Bucky, though.”

“Hello, Bucky.” She smiled, before looking back at Lucinda. “Thank you for the warm welcome. I wasn’t...quite expecting this.”

Lucinda was already gesturing to her to take a seat by the table, to which Natasha complied in automation. “As long as you are part of the Wilson farm, you do not have to worry about food.” 

Her cheeks began to colour just a little; Lucinda had already placed an empty plate in front of her, and before Natasha could say anything else (or stop her, more like it), the older woman had transferred some scrambled eggs and strips of bacon onto her plate. “Would you like waffles as well, Natalie? If you don’t take one now, these boys will finish all of them before you know it.”

“Mom,” Sam sighed, just as Bucky let out a loud laugh. Steve grinned from where he now sat, piling his own plate with some food. “She’s not wrong.” He merely shrugged. “Bucky alone could finish everything on this table.”

“Says the person who eats like three waffles at once.” Bucky rolled his eyes playfully before shoving eggs into his mouth. 

Steve pointed his fork at Bucky. “Hey, I can’t help it if Lucinda makes the best waffles in the world.”

“An exaggeration, if you ask me.” Lucinda piped up, winking when she met Natasha’s eyes. She placed a waffle onto Natasha’s plate, just as she chuckled in response, heart finally settling in ease as she watched the antics of her soon to be colleagues. 

“Oh, don’t listen to her. You’ll want seconds soon enough.” Bucky held a syrup bottle up. “Fancy some syrup on your waffles? Or do you prefer butter?”

Instinctively, Natasha’s mind began to calculate the intake of calories between the two choices. In doing so, she fought hard to ignore the full plate in front of her; the sinking feeling evident in her stomach. In just a few more minutes, Natasha was going to ruin her entire dietary plan for the year, and quite frankly, she didn’t know what to feel about it. It was only until Bucky raised an eyebrow that Natasha snapped herself from her reverie, mentally reminding herself that she was _not_ in New York City. Here, she was _not_ an actress with an order for a strict adherence to her dietary plans. Here, she could eat _whatever_ the hell she wanted, and _no_ one was going to stop her.

“Syrup would be great, thank you.” Natasha said eventually, and Bucky passed the bottle to her wordlessly. Everyone resumed eating their breakfast while Natasha began hers slowly. 

Her first bite into the waffle Lucinda made was enough to send her stomach churning. It wasn’t that it wasn’t good, because it sure _was_ , but Natasha had a difficult time just swallowing the food in her mouth. She looked down, chewing slowly and hoping that no one would realise the struggle she was facing, because who in their right mind would not be enjoying such a wonderful meal to start off their day? 

For years, Natasha had been on a strict low carbs diet mostly due to her agency’s strict BMI requirement. Breakfast meant vegetable and fruit juice to her, not eggs and bacon, and definitely not waffles laced with maple and honey syrup. Her dietician made sure of that, it was a form of discipline Natasha had lived with almost her entire life ever since she was a child actress growing up. So even though Natasha appreciated the gesture of making breakfast to welcome her as an employee, even though the food laid out in front of her was appetising and delicious, her mind and stomach had different views of their own. They were acting up, rebelling against her wish of displaying a normal behaviour. 

Natasha barely took three bites of her waffle when she placed her fork and knife down. Face paling, Natasha braved herself to look up, noticing that the others were already looking at her. 

“Natalie?” Steve raised an eyebrow. “Is everything okay?”

She forced herself to smile, to act like everything was alright even though it wasn’t. That should be easy for her, Natasha thought to herself, because she had been doing that for the last two years; _lying_. “Yeah,” She nodded as cheerfully as she could. “My apologies, Lucinda. Breakfast is wonderful but I’ve actually already eaten before I came. I’m...I’m a little full to be honest.”

“Oh, not to worry!” Lucinda’s reply came a beat after, her expression still the same as before. “The boys will still be able to finish everything, anyway.” 

Natasha hid the guilt building up within her with another smile, this time one that she knew was truly apologetic. “I’ll try your waffles next time.” She said, because that was the socially accepted reply to give to an eager host. Even though Natasha wasn’t sure if things would be different the next day, if she could eat Lucinda’s breakfast without feeling the weight of guilt on her shoulders, she promised the older woman, anyway. Lucinda merely beamed in return, before returning to her own plate. 

“So, Natalie, what made you want to work here?” Sam broke the silence in the air two minutes after - it was a question she had expected to hear, so Natasha was composed when she gathered the words she had rehearsed in her mind. 

“I just wanted to do something completely different.” It wasn’t a lie, at least. “Try something new.”

“Oh, what were you working as before this?” Bucky asked, and Natasha directed her attention at him. This was another question she had prepared herself for. “Ah, just your typical boring old desk job in a company. It just wasn’t fulfilling, so I decided to quit and...here I am.”

Sam and Bucky smiled at the same time, accepting her reply easily. When Natasha casted a careful glance at Steve’s way, she realised that he too, believed her words. There was no reason to doubt her, after all. Natasha decided to switch the topic then, just so to avoid the window of opportunity for them to ask for an elaboration of her made up previous office job. “How long have you three been working on this farm? I understand that this was your father’s farm, Sam?”

He nodded. “Well, the three of us were actually in the army before this.”

Natasha quirked an eyebrow at once; that wasn’t something she had expected to hear, even though it shouldn’t be a surprise. That pretty much explained a lot of things, if she were to really think about it. “So you guys are veterans.” She stated the obvious, just for confirmation.

“Yup.” Bucky replied, popping the ‘p’ loudly. He was still smiling when he raised his left arm and lifted the sleeves - it revealed his prosthetic arm, and Natasha fought the urge to gasp in reflex, though her eyes had widened just a little. “Lost an arm during the war in Afghanistan, so this was a gift from the government. Cool, isn’t it?”

Natasha had no idea if Bucky was naturally that optimistic, or if he was putting on a facade for her. Either way, she put on a sincere smile and nodded. “You’re brave, Bucky. All of you.” She regarded them equally, finally settling her gaze on Steve who had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the conversation. He wasn’t looking at her, so Natasha diverted her attention back to Bucky when he spoke again. 

“Steve and I decided that we didn’t want to return home anymore. Back in our army days, Sam used to speak so fondly of his family farm.” Bucky grinned, and gave Lucinda a wink. “It seemed like a great place to fall back into after our service, so we ended up here.”

“What a story.” Natasha chuckled. “Definitely more interesting than my wanting to get away from a boring 8 to 5 office job.” 

It was definitely a lie, partially because deep down, Natasha would rather have had a boring 8 to 5 office job, than one where she barely had enough rest or sleep because of her busy schedule. “Hey, no judgement here.” Sam responded, eyes crinkling in adoration. “We’re really glad you decided to join us, Natalie.”

“Yeah, don’t let the animals scare you away though. They’re mostly friendly and harmless.” Bucky added. “ _Mostly_ ” 

Natasha laughed, just as Lucinda clapped her hands together for attention. “Natalie, we have something for you.” She said excitedly, going round the table to the back of the dining area. Natasha exchanged a curious look with Steve, who hid his smile behind the toast he was eating. 

“It’s almost tradition that all members of the Wilson farm have this, so…” Lucinda gave a pause for dramatic effect before revealing the little surprise to Natasha. The second her eyes landed on the pair of red farm boots in Lucinda’s hands, Natasha let out a gasp. “ _No way._ ” She fought the urge to giggle, already reaching out for her boots. “How did you know I needed a pair?”

“Steve may or may not have told us that you were walking around the farm yesterday in _Nike_ _sports shoes_.” Sam laughed.

It was a feeling Natasha didn’t know how to describe per se, but she couldn’t stop smiling. She had never received boots as a gift before - there was no reason for her to, since her stylists made sure she was always in stilettos that complemented her dresses. It was crazy how a small gesture like this could send her into a mode of unexpected giddiness. “Thank you. I’ll...put them to good use.” She sincerely said before looking at Steve again. “And thanks for telling everyone my newbie embarrassing moment yesterday, Steve.”

“You’re most welcome, Natalie. And hey,” Steve merely shrugged, chuckling at her joke. “welcome to the family.”

* * *

After breakfast, Steve took Natasha on her first farm tour, showing her all the animals the farm was rearing and the crops they were growing. He briefed her on her general duties, easy tasks in the morning like feeding the animals on time and making random rounds to see if everything was okay. Natasha couldn’t believe how easy her job was for now, even though she had insisted that she could handle a responsibility larger than just making sure the animals are fed. Steve merely shook his head while smiling, saying that she should focus on that first before moving on to harder and more complicated tasks like harvesting the vegetables. 

“Isn’t it difficult to grow crops in Alaskan weather?” Natasha had asked out of curiosity, because she had done some googling and found out that agriculture in Alaska wasn’t something that was staple to the state. 

“It has its challenges, definitely. But it isn’t impossible.” Steve replied. “The long daylight during summer is the best time for our crops to grow.”

Natasha nodded. “What about the soil?”

“Alaskan soil is mostly acidic, so we improve them by adding lime.” He answered her curiosity patiently. “It does wonders.”

Natasha ended up shadowing Steve for her first day, watching him work and assisting from the side. She even got to meet the farm’s official pets - Dodger, a rescued pup practically attached to Steve’s legs, and Alpine, Bucky’s cat who couldn’t be bothered about anything else. The second Dodger dashed forward to circle around Natasha near the pig’s den, the actress was almost convinced she had melted into a puddle of true love for the mixed breed. When she looked up from where she had squatted to rub Dodger's belly, Natasha found Steve staring at her, a small smile rested on his lips. 

She tilted her head to the side, as if to ask him _what's wrong?_ Steve chuckled once before shaking his head. "Nothing. Dodger likes you."

Natasha beamed at the pup lying beside her on the grass. "He's a good boy. Aren't you, Dodger?"

Dodger responded with a bark, and Natasha couldn't help but laugh. From her peripheral, she could tell that Steve was quietly observing her. He said nothing else, and neither did Natasha. Their little break playing with the pup ended five minutes after, and Steve continued to show her some tricks with feeding the animals. 

When her first day ended, Lucinda was quick to invite her for dinner before she headed back to the motel. Natasha found it difficult to decline, seeing the hopeful expression the older woman was bearing on her face, so she merely nodded and followed them back into the farmhouse. It was only upon seeing the many dishes laid out on the dining table that Natasha felt the rumble in her stomach, a realisation that she was famished. She hadn’t eaten breakfast, and had chosen to just eat a small portion for lunch earlier - Lucinda had mildly disapproved while the boys merely watched from the side, comparing their mountainous pile of food to Natasha’s portion. Bucky had joked that in due time, she would be eating as much as them, because working in the farm was energy consuming. She had given him a tight smile in return.

“Please make yourself at home and take all that you want.” Lucinda reminded her gently, passing her a plate. Natasha thanked her graciously before taking her seat opposite Steve. She didn’t say much after that, blending into the background as she ate her food quietly. Natasha watched the three men with Lucinda, just eating, laughing and teasing each other, having a completely _normal_ dinner - she was suddenly hit with envy. 

The lump returned to her throat, and she stopped eating. 

Even if she fought hard not to think about it, Natasha still thought about it; dinner, for the longest of time, had always been another social event to her. Rarely had she eaten dinner at home, or with people that matters to her. Most of her schedule was arranged to revolve around evening parties and gala dinners, fine dining in posh restaurants that could probably pay for her entire week in Mabel’s motel. Socialising, expanding her network while maintaining an elegant demeanour was what she had grown up doing, what was instilled in her from a young age. 

Most people she had met for dinner probably didn’t even care about her. They were there only because of her agency, only because they wanted to be caught in photographs with her, to be part of her social circle. To them, she was _Actress_ Natasha Romanoff - take away her title and her status, and she was sure no one would bother even talking to her. Natasha learned a long time ago that she could be surrounded by a whole bunch of people in the hall, yet she would inescapably still feel extremely lonely. 

But as she watched her fellow farmers just chatting with each other, cracking jokes naturally, Natasha felt a wave of unexpected calmness enveloping her. She hid the smile that was forming on her lips behind her palm pressed against her mouth. This felt different. This _was_ different, and she welcomed this feeling. 

Natasha shifted her gaze just then, meeting eyes with Steve. He had a sort of small smile on his face as well, one that caused her cheeks to flush - did he catch her staring at everyone else? Steve opted not to say anything, shoving meat into his mouth as he looked away, a gesture Natasha found oddly endearing for some reason.

“Natalie?”

She snapped her attention at Lucinda, who had called her name gently. “Yes?” 

“Steve told us about your current lodging arrangement.” Lucinda started. “And I believe he has brought up the possibility of you staying in the cottage with me?”

Natasha glanced at Steve again. “Oh, yes. He did.” 

“I do believe that staying in the motel for a long term is _not_ at all economical. So, the offer is still on the table, if you want.” Lucinda continued. “It would be great to have someone in the cottage.” She added with a playful wink. “These boys no longer want to live with their old ma, so it _does_ get a little lonely sometimes.”

Natasha chuckled, warmth filling her heart as Sam let out a groan. “ _Mom_ ,”

“Now, that’s not fair, Lucinda.” Steve said, his tone teasing and light. “I _wanted_ to stay in the cottage with you...”

Ignoring Steve, Lucinda waved her hand in the air nonchalantly, a wide smile still on her lips. “The only catch is that the room’s pretty small, so you might not have enough space for yourself.”

Natasha shook her head quickly. “The size of the room doesn’t matter, Lucinda. I...I am extremely grateful that there’s even a room for me.”

“So is that a yes?” Lucinda asked, the twinkle in her eyes evident. Natasha looked around the table, seeing everyone’s welcoming, hopeful gaze. It was difficult to say no. 

“Only if you accept some rental from me.” Natasha replied in the end, glancing at Sam. “You could just deduct from my monthly salary.”

He nodded easily. “I’ve been meaning to tell you though, that we would pay you your salary in cash every month, if that’s alright with you?”

That was _more_ than alright with Natasha; it was quite frankly _fantastic_ news to hear. She had to remind herself to be calm when she nodded, so as to not raise any unnecessary suspicions. “That would be great, to be honest.” Natasha said in relief, before adding quickly as a joke. “The bank’s pretty _far_ from here after all.” 

Bucky laughed, nudging Steve’s arm playfully. “I like her, I really do.”

“So that’s decided then!” Lucinda clapped her hands excitedly. “I’ll clean up the room tonight, and you could start staying tomorrow. What do you say?”

In all honesty, Natasha thought that everything was moving a bit too quickly for her own liking. But even so, when she glanced at all of them, genuine kindness evident in their eyes - unlike the usual pretentious stares she would read from people around her - Natasha felt the answer rising within her easily. It was an answer that was independent from other factors, one that validated her true self. 

So, she smiled, and gave Lucinda a nod. “I’ll move in tomorrow, then.”

* * *

My inspiration for Natasha in this fic:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While writing this, it was obvious to me that the Natasha I envisioned in this fic is Kelly Foster from We Bought A Zoo! Hope you liked this chapter and lemme know what you think, comments are greatly appreciated as usual! I've been a little stressed with work these days so do send some love ;A;


	4. the midnight stroll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one with the first proper conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's an update as promised! this fic may be a little slowburn but i hope you bear with me :p
> 
> ps, everyone, please take care of your health, drink lots of warm water and always wash your hands. the virus is really scaring me. ;A;

**_[NEWS - NICK FURY RELEASES A STATEMENT ON BEHALF OF NATASHA ROMANOFF!]_ **

_Nick Fury (63), the manager of A-list Actress, Natasha Romanoff (34), has released an official statement through SHIELD Entertainment just an hour ago._

_Romanoff, the actress for the highly acclaimed tv series The Black Widow, had shocked the entire country with her announcement of her hiatus from the entertainment industry three weeks ago. She did not offer much explanation as to her decision, and had since that day, disappeared from the eyes of the public._

_Fury, who is Romanoff’s manager since the beginning of her career, addressed a few rumours that have been circulating around the internet. First, that Romanoff’s hiatus had been due to a conflict within the agency. Fury has clarified once again that this rumour was completely baseless and untrue, and reassured that the relationship between the actress and her agency remained professional and well. Second, that Romanoff’s hiatus had been influenced by some other external factors not revealed to the general public. In his official statement, Fury stated that Romanoff’s decision to go on a hiatus was due to immense stress and exhaustion. He reiterated what we already know, which was that Romanoff merely wanted some time off to rest. Fury also stated that fans should stop speculating, and accept that the reason was really as simple as that._

_As for when Romanoff would return to the big screens, Fury stated in his official statement that as of now, no such plans or arrangements have been made for her return. Most importantly, Fury hoped that fans would respect her privacy, and sought some kind understanding from everyone to allow Romanoff to fully rest, and to not pressure her for when she would return. Although not expressly stated, it was apparent that Fury had been in touch with the actress, even though he had mentioned once again, that he too, did not know Romanoff’s current whereabouts._

_This is Christine Everhart from Channel-616, bringing you the latest news a click away. Have a pleasant evening._

* * *

That evening, when Natasha returned to the motel, she was greeted by a smiling Mabel - after almost three weeks staying in the motel, the latter had finally warmed up to Natasha, which was quite a shame considering that she was about to inform her that tonight will be her last night lodging in this motel. Natasha knew from the moment their eyes met that the elderly woman was eager to hear about her first day of work, so the actress gave her a wave and sauntered over to the front desk. “Hi, Mabel. How was your day?”

“Dull and uneventful.” Mabel answered with a grunt. “I’m sure _you_ had a better day than I did, though.”

Natasha smiled easily. “It was alright.”

“How do you find the farm? Do you like it there?” Mabel started to quiz her. 

She nodded. “It’s something I need at the moment.”

Mabel beamed at her. “Did you know that when you told me you were going to apply for that farm job at Wilson & Son, I thought you were joking?”

“I know, Mabel.” Natasha stifled a laugh. “It’s obviously unlike _anything_ I’ve ever done before.”

Mabel gave her a grin. “But it makes you happy?” 

“It does.” Natasha said, words she knew were true.

“Quite a bold statement to say after only your first day.” Mabel teased. 

Natasha shrugged. “I just...had this feeling.” She explained. “Of comfort and warmth. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true.”

“I didn’t say you were lying.” Mabel simply smiled, to which Natasha simply chuckled as a response. A few quiet seconds passed by, until Natasha spoke again. “They offered me a room to stay. On the farm.”

Mabel didn’t seem fazed by that. Her smile lingered, and she glanced up from her accounts to meet Natasha’s gaze once again. “That’s great.”

“Don’t miss me too much, maybe?” It was Natasha’s turn to tease the old lady. Mabel grunted again, even though she still wore the same small smile on her lips. “I’d still drop by when I’m in town, if you still want to see me, that is.”

“Ms. Rushman, you don’t have to feel obligated to visit me.” Mabel said gently. “I’m just a grumpy old woman working in a motel.”

“It isn’t an obligation if I want to.” Natasha countered easily, her tone just as gentle as Mabel’s. “You were my first friend here, Mabel.”

“Can’t say the same about you, Ms. Rushman.” Mabel joked, much to Natasha’s amusement. She added after a few seconds. “But you will _always_ be welcomed here.”

Natasha smiled, before reaching over the counter to give the older woman a long, lingering hug. “Thank you, Mabel.”

* * *

The next morning, when Natasha saw the spare bedroom in Lucinda’s cottage, two thoughts ventured into her mind; one, that Lucinda was right about it being a small room with limited space, because the size of it was probably not even half of Natasha’s walk-in closet in her condo in Manhattan. Two, that she really, truly, with all her entire heart, didn’t mind the small space at all.

It was cosy and comfortable, more than she could ever ask for. She had slowly begun to unpack the clothes in her duffel bag when Lucinda came by again, knocking on her door gently. When Natasha opened the door, she was surprised to find Lucinda carrying a medium-sized cardboard box in her hands. She stepped aside for her to enter, already raising an eyebrow in curiosity as to the content of the box and why Lucinda had carried it into her room.

“Natalie,” Lucinda started to explain as she dropped the box onto the floor gently. “I’m not sure if you would want any of these but I was cleaning earlier and found some of my old clothes.” 

“Old clothes?” Natasha settled herself beside the box, eyes gleaming as she peered into it. 

“Most of them are clothes I wore when I was about your age. I was around your size back then, too.” Lucinda chuckled. “They may be a little bit out of fashion, but you may find a gem or two inside.”

“That’s wonderful.” Natasha said earnestly, already digging into the pile of clothes in the box. She could probably find a few pieces at least, especially those that she could wear while working - she really should have brought more casual attire instead of blouses and slacks that she had no idea what to do in her duffel bag. “I’m sure I can find something.”

Lucinda grinned, tapping Natasha’s shoulder gently before taking her leave. Once she had gone out of her room, Natasha dug further into the box. She was pleasantly surprised to find a few pieces of clothings that were still decent looking. What surprised her most was to find a faded denim overalls, one that she knew at once that she could (and would) probably wear many times on the farm. She decided at once that she would try the overalls on, praying that it would fit her. 

It was a little bit loose around the waist, but Natasha found herself beaming in front of the mirror. She stuffed her hands into the pockets, twirling from one side to the other. Natasha couldn’t help but laugh at her own antics; never had it ever crossed her mind that she would one day be this happy over a pair of fade out _overalls_. First it was over a pair of boots. Now, it was over a pair of overalls. What would her socialite acquaintances think of her if they knew what was going on at this moment?

When she ventured into the farm to start her work routine, Bucky was the first to see her. She caught him grinning from ear to ear, and when she was within earshot, Bucky half yelled. “It’s like you’re _officially_ one of us now!”

Natasha laughed. She knew he was alluding to her attire, courtesy of Lucinda. “Don’t be fooled by the overalls and boots!” She yelled back before continuing her way in the opposite direction. 

Next, she bumped into Sam by the fences - he was mending a panel, and didn’t notice her until she stopped right behind him. “Hey,” She greeted, looking at his handiwork. Sam returned her greeting and paused to glance over his shoulder. 

“Your outfit looks familiar.” Sam mused, smiling at her. 

Natasha nodded with a grin. “Brings you back to your days as a child, huh?”

Sam laughed, giving her a nod. “Looking good, Natalie.”

“Thanks, Sam.” Natasha said, before taking a few steps back. “I should probably look for Steve, I’m supposed to help him out with the animals today.”

“Go ahead.” Sam nudged his chin in a direction. “He should be at the horse stable at this time.”

Sure enough, Natasha found Steve preparing hay and grains to feed the horses. When she entered the stable, Steve glanced up by reflex. Unlike the other two men, he didn’t comment about her appearance that morning, though Natasha noticed the glint of amusement in his eyes that came and went in a few seconds. Eventually, Steve settled with a smile instead. “Morning.”

“Good morning,” Natasha returned. “What can I do to help?”

Steve paused to think for a few seconds, before deciding on asking Natasha to fill the water troughs. She obliged quietly, filling the third trough with water obediently when a snort, followed by a laugh escaped her without any warning. Steve looked her way, having heard her, and Natasha returned his look with heated cheeks. 

“Sorry,” She apologised sheepishly before putting down the bucket. Natasha confessed slowly. “It’s just that, this entire situation is hilarious to me.”

Steve wasn’t judgemental, or at least, he wasn’t displaying any expression which hinted he was judging her. Instead, he merely raised an eyebrow, prompting her to elaborate. 

Natasha knew that she couldn’t tell him everything, so she decided to opt for a simple response instead. “It’s just funny that this is where I’ve ended up today.” She shrugged in disbelief. “Not that this is a bad job, it’s just...it’s so _different_ from what I used to do. I mean, I’m filling up water troughs for horses to drink. Water _troughs._ In a _stable_ .” Natasha paused, then added in a dramatic tone. “In freaking _Alaska_!”

Truth be told, even though she had made the decision consciously, even though she had decided to start things afresh, there were still moments where Natasha would be in disbelief. It would take her a few minutes to truly digest the fact that she had left _everything_ behind her, and opted for a drastic 180 degree change by deciding on moving away from the city - that was one thing. But to work in a _farm_ was another thing. If Fury, Maria and Pepper were to know about this abrupt decision of hers, what would they say? Would they even believe her? Heck, if _Yelena_ finds out about this, the younger female would probably drop flat on the floor in tears and laughter.

“I get it.” Steve spoke after that, snapping Natasha from her thoughts. But his answer was curt and Steve offered no further elaboration - remembering Bucky’s words, Natasha was left wondering if he felt the same way after returning from the army. She wanted to ask him, but their moment was interrupted by the sudden neigh of the horses; Natasha jumped in surprise, clutching her chest, while Steve merely laughed at her reaction.

“You’ll get used to it.” Steve said in the end, before making his way towards the horses, lunging the buckets of mixed hay and grains with him. As he began to pour one bucket into the feeder box, Steve turned his head sideways to meet Natasha’s gaze once again. He smiled, before saying. “Trust me.”

She did - as crazy as this sounded like. Then again, with everything that has happened in such a short span of time, this was the least crazy among all. Maybe it was because Natasha wanted to believe that she would one day wake up and truly put her past behind her. Maybe it was just Steve’s nature and effect on people that had her trusting his words so easily. So even though Natasha didn’t explicitly reply to his statement, a thought flitted into her mind anyway; _I do trust you_. 

* * *

  
  


_“Natasha, are you listening to me?”_

_Having spent hours socialising with people from the gala dinner, Natasha was beyond exhausted. She didn’t say much on the ride back to her condo, being on the verge of falling into slumber. It took Fury a few tries to get her attention, but once she had given it to him, Natasha was left wishing she had just pretended to have fallen asleep instead._

_“Happy will be waiting for you downstairs at 4. You should reach the set by 4.30, and you’ll need to get your hair and makeup done by 6. Shooting starts at 6.30 until 4. And then you have interviews with Elle and Entertainment Weekly at 5 and 6. Dinner with Mr. Ross at 7.30 at the Plaza hotel --”_

_Fury was going through her schedule tomorrow - another fully packed day which would start in the wee hours of morning, right until the stroke of midnight. Was she surprised? Not really. She should be used to this by now, having lived this life for more than three years. It was ironic that she could never truly be happy in this profession; when she was less known, Natasha had her own set of problems that contributed to her unhappiness. She struggled to make enough money for her agency - they had invested in her, paid for her acting and dance classes, practically grooming her into the actress she was today. SHIELD Entertainment was adamant on seeing the result of their investment, so they had pushed her to many projects which they hoped could kick-start her career. The returns were so-so; amidst some positive feedback of her minor roles in movies, critics called her acting mediocre, and journalists wrote that she would be nothing without her “pretty face”._

_“-- remember that SHIELD is trying to get Mr. Ross to be one of their investors. You should not say things that would offend him. But I’m sure you already know.”_

_Back then, those comments, as harsh as they were, only fuelled Natasha’s desire to prove those people wrong. That she was more than just a pretty face, that she had so much more potential in her that she could show if only she had the right platform. She worked three times harder, building a network of relationships that she hoped could nudge her into the right direction._

_And eventually, it did. The Black Widow was a nationwide hit, something she hadn’t expected. Suddenly, she was attending interviews for all sorts of magazines and tv channels. Suddenly, she was on the covers of Vogue, Vanity Fair, People, US Weekly - every magazine on the stands had her face plastered on their front covers. Suddenly, she was getting offers to star in movies with celebrities she’d only dreamed of meeting. People started recognising her on the streets, people started asking for her autographs, for pictures with her._

_“Natasha?”_

_Natasha truly felt alive at that time - this was what she wanted, wasn’t it? To be in the spotlight, to be known. To be recognised for her talents and artistry. She was at the peak of her career. She wanted it. She_ prayed _for it, so why wasn’t she happy? Why can’t she be satisfied with what she has today? It was apparent to her that as days went by, then a year, and another, and Natasha started to realise that she had lost herself in the bubble of popularity and fame, the desire to please and the gradual forgoing of being true to herself. Her happiness was short lived._

_But she couldn’t complain - this was the life she chose, the dream she had chased after._

_“Do you have any questions?”_

_She did have a few questions she wanted to ask; why was her schedule so packed every single day? Why was she the person who had to entertain Mr. Ross and all the other politicians SHIELD had sent her to? Wasn’t she an actress? Was SHIELD trying to exhaust her, wrung her bones dry? Has SHIELD forgotten that she was only human, that she could break, that she was in fact_ already _broken?_ _When was the last time she had seven hours of sleep? When was the last time she had gone on a holiday? How did she end up in this mess? Did Fury realise she was tired? Did anyone realise she felt --_

_“Yes.” Natasha whispered in the end, screwing her eyes shut. “Can you please just let me sleep in peace?”_

_She felt miserable, but there was nothing she could do about it._

* * *

There was no greater irony than the fact that when Natasha could finally get the sleep she had been deprived of for many years, her mind had flat-out _refused_ to let her rest. 

As she tossed and turned in her bed, finally opening her eyes to meet the gleaming figure of 2:03 on the clock, Natasha let out a loud sigh. She didn’t understand how she was still wide awake, when she knew for a fact that her body was sore and tired. It was borderline ridiculous by now, and knowing that she wasn’t going to fall into slumber any time soon, Natasha decided to throw her blanket aside and get down from the bed. Putting on some extra layers of clothes so that she won’t freeze to death, Natasha decided that she would take a stroll outside. 

Back in New York, she could never have done this. Not just because people could recognise her, or that it was dangerous, but also because the view there could never compare with what she could witness with her own two eyes here on the farm. Nature really did have its way of worming itself into her heart, and Natasha found herself relishing in the silence and peace that she had quite frankly, forgotten all about. She walked around aimlessly, listening to the sound of crickets singing, and thinking how calming this all felt to her soul.

When was the last time she truly felt at peace like this? She couldn’t remember. Natasha had an inkling that maybe she couldn’t remember because she had been too young to. The air was cooling and fresh, and Natasha stopped to take slow and deep breaths that she hoped would help clear her mind and allow her to sleep later.

Until she heard a twig snapping into two from behind her, and Natasha nearly jumped out of her shoes. She whirled around, ready to chuck the torchlight she was death-gripping into whoever it was that had stepped on the twig, only to realise at the last second that it was _Steve_. He raised his hands to surrender, as though telling her that it was just him and not some stranger she didn’t know.

“Jesus Christ, _Steve_.” Natasha suppressed the urge to raise her voice, one hand already clutching her chest. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you asleep yet?”

Steve took a few steps closer, quirking an eyebrow. “I could say the same about you.” He answered calmly.

Natasha blushed instinctively. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Steve shrugged nonchalantly. “Me too.” It sounded like he was used to this, not being able to sleep at night. Natasha held his gaze in understanding, until he wavered and looked away. Silence breached over them in that moment, until she spoke up again. “It’s a beautiful night.” She switched topics easily, knowing that Steve wasn’t ready to elaborate on why he had difficulties in sleeping, like her. 

Their eyes met again, and this time Natasha could see the hint of gratitude in his eyes for not pressing on to why he couldn’t sleep. She started to walk again, listening to his footsteps behind her. “It sure is.” Steve agreed, eventually falling into step beside her. “I like taking walks at night. It’s just so peaceful. Takes things off my mind, you know?"

Natasha nodded in agreement. “The air’s fresh, too.” She quipped. “I know I’ve said this about a million times but it really is different here, compared to where I came from.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask but,” Steve hesitated just a little. “how different?”

Natasha didn’t pause. “Just the atmosphere and ambience. The people, too.”

Steve shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “You’re from the city, right?”

Natasha figured one truth won’t hurt, so she told him. “New York.” 

“Ah,” Steve merely said, his tone remaining the same as it was before. There was a long pause until he spoke again. “I have a confession to make.”

“Let me guess,” Natasha threw him a small smile. “you’re from New York too?”

Steve shook his head in disbelief. “That obvious, huh?”

“You’re not that difficult to tell.” Natasha merely said. 

He chuckled, shrugging. “Well, New York does have a population of 8 million people. The possibility of you getting it correct was already right _there_.”

Their eyes met once again, and this time, Natasha threw him a smirk. “I still got it right though, didn’t I?”

He raised his hands up, returning her smirk with one of his own. “You got me. I’m a Brooklyn kid.”

“Huh,” Natasha raised an eyebrow. “I would have pen you for a Queens kid.”

“ _What_?” Steve threw his head back in a laugh. “Seriously?”

She laughed. “No, you’re a Brooklyn kid through and through.”

For a moment, there was a pause as Steve continued to look at Natasha from the corner of his eyes. He was hesitant once again, not quite sure if he should ask her more questions, or if he was overstepping his boundaries. Natasha (Natalie) hasn’t been here long, but Steve knew that there were things she was not telling everyone else - and Steve, being Steve, did not wish to pry. He understood that feeling well, knowing that it would take some time for Natasha to truly warm up to everyone. It would take time for her to _trust_ them enough to open up. 

Still, even though he knew that, even though he respected that, Steve couldn’t help but ask anyway. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

It was too late to retract his words, so Steve ventured on. “Which part of New York are you from?”

“Why don’t you take a shot and guess?” Natasha seemed comfortable with that question, from the playful glint in her eyes that Steve could already tell. “You have a ⅕ probability of getting the right answer.”

He went along with her request. “You’re definitely not from Brooklyn or Queens.”

Natasha hid the amusement in her expression by turning away. “Go on.”

“Don’t think you’re from the Bronx or Staten Island either so…” Steve snapped his fingers together, as though he had solved an unsolvable puzzle before pointing a finger at Natasha. “born and bred in Manhattan.”

She merely laughed, indulging in his answer for three seconds before shaking her head. “Wrong.”

His face fell a little. “No way.”

“Yes way.” She said. “I was actually _not_ born or bred anywhere in the States.”

Steve raised an eyebrow on instinct, prompting Natasha to continue.

“I’m Russian.” She admitted, and saw the way Steve’s eyes widened just a little. “Migrated to the States when I was about eight or so.”

“So you’re telling me that I had a zero probability of getting the right answer.” Steve shook his head while chuckling. For a second, Natasha was filled with amusement once again, of the fact that Steve had chosen to put her little birth revelation behind how she had played him. She was expecting him to be shocked to learn that bit of information about her past - after all, when Natasha had told other people that she was Russian, they had usually gasped in exaggeration before exclaiming that they had no idea, since she was “practically American!”.

It was relatively minor, but still, that alone seemed like a breath of fresh air. Natasha continued. “For the record though, you were partially right. At _some_ point, I stayed in Manhattan permanently.” 

When those words left her, Natasha wondered for a few seconds why she had said that, why she had told him that additional piece of information she could have easily kept from him. It was a conversation that she could have ended after what Steve said, or at least, a topic that she could easily switch from.

Half expecting Steve to ask for an elaboration, Natasha was caught with surprise once again when he merely shrugged. “See! I knew my hunch was right.”

She couldn’t help it; Natasha smiled, throwing a quick glance into Steve’s direction before facing the front again. They didn’t say anything after that, and in that comfortable silence, they kept walking, eventually reaching the path that would bring them back to the farm.

Natasha decided to break the silence; it was nice getting to know each other anyway, albeit how short their conversations had been so far. “Would you ever go back?” She asked, even though it was rather hypocritical of her to ask this question to Steve. “To New York, I mean.”

“The city stresses me out.” Steve admitted after a short pause, and Natasha knew almost at once that she was only hearing a partial story from him - it was easy to recognise someone like her, after all. And knowing that Steve had been respecting her privacy so far, Natasha decided not to ask follow up questions to him. “I understand that completely.”

Steve was grateful for that. “Plus, I don’t think Sam and Bucky will ever be leaving this place. Lucinda, too. They’re all I’ve got left.”

Natasha didn’t reply immediately. She may not understand the want of staying in a particular place because of family or friends, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t see why Steve had chosen to remain in the same place as his close friends. Before she could say something in that line, it suddenly struck her.

If Steve was originally from New York, wouldn’t he know who she was? She had been around the industry since she was a child, even if she hadn’t been famous enough then, but in recent years, it was a different story - it was almost impossible that he, Bucky and Sam didn’t _know_ her. She recalled what Bucky said, about them being in the army - could that be the reason why?

Natasha was suddenly a little more wary, putting a guard up at once. “Hey, Steve?” She tried to keep her voice composed. “How long did you say you were living in Brooklyn for?”

“Oh,” Steve answered without missing a beat. “I left Brooklyn after high school. For the army. Never went back to the city after that.

Hearing that nearly made Natasha sigh in relief. She calmed down almost at once, because his explanation made sense. The three of them didn’t know who she was because they never had the opportunity to - by the time she was widely recognised, they were already long gone in the army, leaving no time for them to be caught up with the entertainment industry, probably the last thing in their mind whilst facing adversaries and protecting the country.

It was pushing the boundary a little, because Natasha has a hunch that Steve didn’t quite like talking about his army days. But she didn’t know what else to say, how else to steer the conversation back to the one they had before this. "What is it like serving in the army?"

"It was a responsibility." Steve replied softly. "Something you shoulder on for the country. Maybe even forever."

"I think it's honourable." Natasha gave him a smile, an attempt to ease the sudden awkwardness she was feeling in the air.

Steve stayed silent at that, and she relished in the realisation that like her, Steve was not sharing everything about himself. That was still that invisible guard she could detect from him, one that was all too familiar because she too, had one herself. So she kept quiet after that, the journey back to Lucinda’s cottage seemed longer now that they weren’t having a conversation with each other. Still, Natasha was glad she decided to take a stroll outside - if she hadn't, she wouldn't have bumped into Steve. She wouldn't have had this first proper conversation with him, get to know him more. He seemed like a nice friend to have, one who she could probably trust, as early as it was that she'd already come to this bold conclusion.

When they reached the cottage’s front door, Steve turned to look at her again. He smiled. “Thanks for the company, Natalie.”

Natasha returned his smile easily, her tone light and teasing. “Maybe you’ll bump into me tomorrow midnight, too.”

Steve chuckled, keeping his voice low. “Same time, same place?”

Natasha fought the urge to laugh. But she nodded, nonetheless. “Same time, same place.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading and commenting, i am always grateful for each and every view/kudos/comments, they truly do motivate me to write and for that so thank you!


	5. yelena belova

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one where Natasha tells Steve fragments of her story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a quicker update (though a little bit shorter than my usual chapters). My country has officially issued a restriction of movement order (not exactly a lockdown) so I've been working from home and finding more time to also be writing (don't let my bosses hear this sksksksk) so yes, hope everyone has been keeping well!
> 
> I've also realised as I am planning the future chapters of this fic that this is definitely going to be pretty slowburn hahaha which, readers would know by now that it is a genre i specifically thrive in. Promise that it would all be worth it in the end, we're still in the early chapters anyway.
> 
> Enjoy! Thank you for reading <3

**_[NEWS - ALEXANDER PIERCE SPOTTED AT THE RED ACADEMY!]_ **

_In a rather surprising yet not quite unforeseeable change in circumstances, director Alexander Pierce (75) has apparently been spotted at the Red Academy, the entertainment agency which houses current popular actress Yelena Belova (27), known best for her lead role in Andante, and her supporting role in the TV hit series, The Black Widow._

_Many fans have begun speculating that with the absence of Natasha Romanoff (34), the A-list actress who had recently announced her hiatus from the industry, Pierce has started eyeing Belova for the lead role in his upcoming movie instead, a choice that is not all that surprising considering Belova’s own impressive accolades. While there has been no confirmation whatsoever from Pierce or his management, rumour has it that it is already a done deal, and that Belova has already been locked for the role._

_If confirmed, it would be Belova’s first time ever being in a production directed by Pierce. She would be starring alongside A-list actor, Clark Kent (36). Fan opinions of this casting choice has been split into two, majority of whom had pointed out that Belova was merely a ‘replacement’ to Pierce’s obvious number one choice, Romanoff. Some were quick to also state that Belova is unable to escape from being Romanoff’s shadow, citing that once again, the actress is inevitably linked to the A-list actress. To jolt your memory, long before Romanoff joined the highly acclaimed agency SHIELD Entertainment, she had, similarly to Belova, started as a child actress in the Red Academy. Both actresses had been part of a family sitcom together, playing the role of cousins when Romanoff, who had been fifteen at that time, was noticed and scouted by SHIELD._

_Also a known fact to all, Belova was initially considered to star as the titular role in The Black Widow, having auditioned and read for that role before ultimately losing it to Romanoff. She was instead, casted as Lena, the foster sister of Natalia known as the Crimson Widow._

_Even though both actresses have crossed conflicting paths with each other many times, both remained good friends after all these years. With a role by famous director Pierce at stake though, fans could only hope that it would not brew trouble for our two favourite Widows._

_What do you think of the casting choice for Pierce’s upcoming movie? Let us know what you think in our comment section below. This is Christine Everhart from Channel-616, bringing you the latest updates, one click away. Have a pleasant evening._

* * *

Ever since that midnight stroll they shared over the mutual inability to fall asleep, something - just _something,_ she didn’t know how to label it - shifted between Natasha and Steve.

They showed up to work on time even without getting proper sleep the night before, both exchanging a quaint but knowing smile with each other the second their eyes met. They didn’t bring up what happened, didn’t ask each other anything which may allude to that thirty minutes walk they shared together in the wee hours of morning. But there was a comfortable air between them that lingered, as subtle as it was, of knowing that they’d shared a secret privy to only the both of them. Nothing has changed, yet, _something_ has. They just decided not to dwell on it, or read too deeply into that moment, going about their routine on the farm like normal. They worked quietly, oftentimes together, and though there weren’t many words that were exchanged, Natasha felt completely at ease around Steve. Deep down, she would like to believe that he shared the same comfort too.

So much so that when she climbed into bed that night, hoping to fall right into slumber, Natasha didn’t feel upset when she couldn’t. Instead, she gazed at the time on her clock, and when it was nearly 2 in the morning, she promptly got down and reached for her sweater behind her door. She didn’t know if she would be seeing Steve again, or if he would even be waiting for her, but Natasha reminded herself that yesterday’s midnight stroll _did_ take things off her mind, so there was no harm in doing it again.

Much to her surprise, Natasha barely took a few steps outside of Lucinda’s cottage when she spotted Steve waiting by the white picket fence. His back was against her, but there was no mistake that it was Steve. Fighting the urge to smile, Natasha made her way towards him quietly, almost stealthily without a single sound, that when she cleared her throat softly behind him, Steve jumped slightly in shock. 

She chuckled in amusement. “Hi,”

Steve was giving her a sheepish smile now. “Some sound of footsteps would be better next time, unless your intention is to give me a heart attack...”

Natasha gasped dramatically, one hand against her chest. “and lose my one and only midnight buddy? Now, why would I do that?”

He shook his head, unsure of what to reply. They began to walk, with Natasha breaking the silence in the air a few seconds after. “How long have you been lingering outside of Lucinda’s cottage?”

Steve shrugged, his tone calm when he answered. “A little over twenty minutes.”

Even though her first reaction was to widen her eyes, Natasha gave him half a smirk in the end when she caught his eyes. “You were really waiting for me, weren’t you?”

He looked at her sheepishly. “I was sort of worried you took my words seriously yesterday.”

“What would you have done if I was already fast asleep?” Natasha asked, mildly touched that he was _actually_ concerned that she would be putting off sleep because of what he said the midnight before. 

“I would have been glad,” He said, then quickly added in case she misunderstood him. “that you were getting some sleep.”

“That would be great, yeah.” She agreed easily. “I truly did enjoy your company though.”

Steve nodded, obviously flattered by her comment. “But sleep should always triumph over that.”

“I hope you apply that thought to yourself, too.” Natasha returned without missing a beat. 

He merely smiled, and silence engulfed them once again. They were halfway across the farm when this time, it was Steve who started another conversation. “So...do you miss New York?” He didn’t know what else to ask, so he settled for that question as a means of a follow up to what she had told him the night before.

It took her a few seconds, but Natasha ended up shaking her head. A short pause after, she continued. “Honestly, not really.”

Somehow, it didn’t surprise Steve to hear that. “Why not?” 

“It is too _loud_.” She glanced at him, meeting his gaze. “And because the city is too loud, it became loud even in my head. Have you ever had that feeling where there are so many voices talking to you all at once? They’re telling you things you don’t want to know, feeding you with information you didn’t ask for. To constantly have that in my head...it was _suffocating_. I thought I had learned to live with it, to just put up with it and endure everything,” Natasha shook her head, lowering her voice so it came off as a whisper, a moment of clear vulnerability. “But I haven’t.”

Having kept this locked for the longest of time in the deepest recesses of her heart, it was as though she had opened a floodgate -- once she had started, it was difficult to stop. So, Natasha continued. “That wasn’t all I had to deal with. I was surrounded by people who thought they knew me better than I knew myself. People who assume things, people who wanted me to be this _ideal, perfect_ person who can’t make any mistakes. Well, I _can’t_ be that person.” She scoffed, recalling the few headlines that had twisted her stomach in discomfort and frustration. “When I can’t conform to their ideals, they began to paint their own narratives about me. You should hear the names they gave me. I didn’t ask for any of that to happen to me. I never wanted that, and I was _tired_ of everything.” 

Natasha sucked in a deep breath, avoiding his quiet gaze, realising a beat too late that she had probably revealed more than what she originally intended. When she braved herself to look at him, to gauge his reaction to her sudden outpour of emotions, she was comforted by the usual expression Steve was wearing on his face. She knew almost at once that he was doing it on purpose; to not be judgemental with her situation. Natasha calmed down instantaneously, pushing her embarrassment to the back of her mind.

She willed herself to smile, hoping that it would be sufficient to convey her apology for suddenly dumping this load of information on Steve. He probably didn’t understand much of what she’d just said, especially without knowing the full story, but Natasha felt an odd sense of serenity in telling him the truth partially. “I needed this break, Steve. I had to take it before I went crazy.”

Even though Natasha had told him fragments of her story without the full context, Steve understood enough. He understood enough to know that whatever it was that Natasha had gone through before coming to Alaska, it had been an unhappy, overwhelming experience she had to get away from. Part of him felt relieved that she had found sufficient courage to leave her old life behind, while a part of him felt utterly confused that he would even think of such thoughts for someone he’d just known not that long ago.

“Hey,” He whispered, nudging her shoulder gently so that she was looking at him again. He offered her a small, warm smile. “I know this wasn’t easy for you, but I’m really glad you left that environment.” 

She returned his smile, heart fluttering steadily beneath her skin. “Thanks, Steve.”

Silence stretched between them again, and Natasha noticed that Steve had opened and closed his mouth a few times, clearly having something that he wanted to say but somehow, couldn’t. She kept mum, waiting patiently for him to find the words. She assumed that what Steve wanted to say next probably wasn’t something he could say out loud and unconstrained.

Finally, Steve took in a deep breath, and pushed the words out. “Remember when I told you that I left Brooklyn for the army and never returned there afterward?”

“Mmhmm.” Natasha hummed softly, unsurprised that Steve was telling her something about himself that she didn’t know of. Her instinct was right. “What about it?”

“I thought I should tell you why.” He finally said, ignoring the drumming of his heart against his chest. “It wouldn’t be fair if you just did all the talking tonight.” Steve managed to joke, and Natasha laughed softly. She prompted him to continue with a wave of her hand, eyes never leaving him.

“The reason was that...I _can’t_.” Steve confessed in a whisper. “After years of being in the army, going through the war...I just didn’t think I could fall back into the routine of my life before being a soldier. The war, it changes you.”

Natasha’s features softened almost at once. Steve continued. “So what you said, about the city being loud, I understand that. I understand how you feel completely, even though our circumstances and what prompted us to leave are different. The city reminds me of the things I want to forget. If I were to live there, I would never be able to make any progress in recovering.”

She kept her face straight, but Natasha caught on to the last word Steve had uttered; _recovering_. She wanted to ask him more, because she didn’t know for sure what he had meant when he said that. But it was obvious that Steve wasn’t ready to reveal that secret to her, or elaborate in his story more, so Natasha kept mum. One thing that was sure though, was that at the very least, Natasha knew that there was some sort of semblance of trust that Steve was displaying towards her, that he was slowly but surely, opening up to her bit by bit.

Perhaps it could be attributed to the fact that she was doing the same to him, too. Reciprocity could go a long way, Natasha thought to herself. So even though she was hesitant, Natasha decided to tell him anyway. “The life I had before coming here...there were good moments that I will always cherish and remember.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “ _But_ the bad outweighs the good, and it is partially why I have difficulties in sleeping every night. And...for whatever other weird antics I’ve been displaying since my first day here.”

She caught the look of sympathy in his eyes. Steve asked. “Like how you barely eat?”

 _So he did notice_ , was the first thing that Natasha thought of when the question left his mouth. It was something she had expected, so she merely nodded. “Like how I barely eat.” She echoed, then sighed - it was rather odd to admit it out loud, but now that she had actually done that, Natasha felt a sense of relief rippling across her stomach. Natasha embraced the realisation that she could be true to herself in front of Steve without worrying about her reputation or image. She could be honest in front of him, because Steve wasn’t pretentious, and he wasn’t one to pry unnecessarily. “I’m trying, though.” She assured him. “I really am trying.”

“I hope you feel better here.” Steve said warmly. “I really hope you do, Natalie.”

“ _Nat._ ” Natasha had no idea what prompted her to say it, but she figured it has something to do with the newfound trust she had developed with him. Steve raised an eyebrow in mild confusion, until Natasha continued her sentence. “Please call me Nat.”

It was the closest she could say without revealing the truth to him completely - at least Nat _was_ an abbreviation of her real name. “Hey, not everyone gets to call me that, you know.” She added lightheartedly, an attempt for a natural transition. 

“I’m honoured.” Steve gave her a lopsided grin, and in that brief moment, Natasha felt her heart skip a beat. She brushed that feeling aside as quickly as it appeared though, maintaining the smile on her face. Then, Steve said softly. “ _Nat._ ”

It was probably the way he had called her, the light, warm tone he had used, but Natasha felt butterflies fluttering into her stomach. Her name sounded different coming from him, it sounded _safe_ , like he was carrying her name with him with utmost care and respect. It shouldn’t be possible, it was just a shorter way of saying her name. But Natasha still felt it. 

She didn’t know how to feel about it, but nevertheless, Natasha welcomed it with flushes on her cheeks, and the rush of her heartbeat. 

* * *

During breaktime, when everyone hustled into the living room to rest, Natasha was greeted with a few missed calls and texts from Yelena Belova, one of her friends who had known her the longest, and the only person Natasha had no idea how to label their relationship with each other. Once upon a time, Yelena had regarded Natasha with animosity, always keeping her at arm’s length despite the fact that they had grown up together as child actresses from the Red Academy. It wasn’t that Natasha didn’t know why the younger actress had acted that way; she understood that it was merely a natural reaction from all the times they’d been pitted against each other by their agency and even the public. And because Natasha had been the older one, the Red Academy had always favoured her more than Yelena.

It was a habit she couldn’t forgo, but the second Natasha read the latest news from the entertainment section, she knew that it was only a matter of time before Yelena would reach out to her. Ever since her hiatus announcement, Yelena had texted her a few times, their conversation mostly short and professional. They may not be the closest because of circumstances, but it was obvious that they cared for each other in their own ways.

Natasha excused herself to call Yelena back, already having an instinct on why the younger actress had called her. Yelena answered in just a few rings, tone in her usual demeanour. 

“Natasha,” She began. “you seemed rather busy.”

Natasha understood the underlying message in her statement; _what were you doing that you couldn’t answer my calls or reply to my texts?_

“Yeah,” Natasha replied, revealing nothing of what she had done. “I was.”

She could hear Yelena frowning from the other line, her face probably scrunched in curiosity and confusion - wasn’t she on a break, what could she be doing the entire day that she didn’t check her phone at all? But Yelena chose not to press further. Instead, she jumped straight into why she’d contacted her earlier in the day. “Have you seen the news?”

“About Alexander Pierce going to the Red Academy?” She lowered her voice, looking behind her shoulder to make sure no one was near her vicinity. “I have.”

There was a short pause, as if Yelena was trying to gauge her thoughts from her reply alone. “What do you think about it?” She finally asked.

“What do I think about it?” Natasha frowned. “I don’t.”

From the way Yelena was mumbling incoherent Russian sentences over the line was enough for Natasha to deduce that the younger actress was flabbergasted at her response. She didn’t blame her; the Natasha she grew up knowing would probably have had lots to say about the news. She just wasn’t that Natasha anymore.

“It’s _Alexander Pierce_.” Yelena stated, in a tone that indicated disbelief more than anything else.

“What about him?”

“Are you even listening to yourself?” 

“I am, and if I understood this entire conversation properly, shouldn’t you be happy that he has gone to _your_ agency?” Natasha asked tersely. “Isn’t that what _you_ want?”

“You _don’t_ understand, then.” Yelena responded without missing a beat. “You seemed to have forgotten that he had gone to yours _first_.”

It all clicked in her head at once. “Ah.” Natasha heaved a long sigh. “Of course.”

It has always been this way for them. This rivalry-turned-friendship. It was the reason why Natasha couldn’t label their relationship with each other. Putting everything in the industry aside, Natasha could consider Yelena as her close friend, even as her little sister. But the constant comparison and pitting had caused a permanent friction in their relationship that could not be mended, a sort of scar that was everlasting in their hearts. The earliest memory she could think of about Yelena, was that the media had always labelled her as the _second_ Natasha Romanoff, fuelled primarily by their same heritage as Russian-American, both hailing from the Red Academy, and their unexpected co-starring in The Black Widow together as rival characters. When that happened, it was only natural that more people began to associate their lives to the tv series, despite being fictional. 

All of those got into Yelena’s head eventually; the fact that she will always only be _second best_ , after Natasha. 

Which was how Natasha knew, almost at once the second Yelena said that sentence, that she had called her not because she wanted to share the good news with her. Yelena had called her in spite of that, to display her dissatisfaction that yet once again, she had already lost to the older actress. 

“Yelena,” Natasha started again. “not everything has to be a competition.”

“It’s easy to say that when you know you’re the winner.” Yelena replied. “ _Again_.”

Natasha ran a hand through her hair in frustration. “But I don’t want to be one. I _never_ wanted to be one.”

“Do you know what people are already saying?” The younger woman ignored her briskly. “That the only reason why Alexander Pierce chose me as his female lead was because _you_ weren’t available.” 

Almost instantly, Natasha felt a small _pang_ in her heart. Of the realisation that even when she was far away from the spotlight, it would still return to find her, no matter where she was, no matter what she was doing. She would always be tangled in this web of fame, even when she has tried her hardest to stay away from. 

Yelena continued. “I know it’s not your fault and you had nothing to do with this, but _I_ don’t want to be chosen because of _that._ Because of your _absence.”_

“What do you suggest I do, then?” Natasha asked, her voice laced with obvious frustration over something beyond her control. “Yelena, I’ve announced my hiatus from the industry. What more do you want me to do?”

It was Yelena’s turn to sigh. “I just don’t want to be labelled as second best.” 

“You’re _not_ second best, Yelena. You are your own version of best.” Natasha responded at once. “Look, I can say this much - if that role is meant to be yours, it is _meant_ to be yours.” She said firmly. “It _isn’t_ an opportunity I want to take, and I know it means a lot to you.”

“Natasha…”

“You _won’t_ be a replacement. I can assure you that I haven’t received an offer from him, never even heard from him directly. Maybe I was never even his choice to begin with.”

Yelena’s voice had grown smaller. “That isn’t what everyone is saying.” 

“Rumours will be rumours. He hasn’t met with me personally before, but he has met up with you, isn’t that right? That means something, Yelena. Don’t you think so?”

Yelena didn’t need to reply; her silence served as an answer in itself. Natasha continued. “You want this.”

She could feel her nodding once from the other end. “I do.”

“Then don’t let this…so called _rivalry_ between us stop you.” Natasha pleaded. “You are an amazing actress. You’ve established that a long time ago with _Andante.”_ She was whispering now. “Don’t let their words get to you.”

It was almost hypocritical of her to say this to Yelena, knowing full well that for many years, Natasha had experienced firsthand the impact of the public’s words on her. But this wasn’t something she could tell Yelena now, not when the younger woman was having doubts of her own ability as an actress, so Natasha sucked in a deep breath and continued her sentence. “Hey, don’t overthink this. I know you will do well in this role.”

There was a long pause, before Yelena replied. “You’re really okay with this?” 

“About you getting the part? Of course I am.” Natasha said, her tone genuine. “And I’m _proud_ of you, Yelena.”

The subtle shift of movement from the other line was enough indication to Natasha that Yelena was probably smiling, finally putting her worries behind her. “Even though it’s a movie by Alexander Pierce?”

“Trust me when I say this,” Natasha mumbled beneath her breath. “but Alexander Pierce is the _last_ thing on my mind right now.”

She heard the sigh of gratitude from Yelena, and knew that the latter had probably calmed down from her initial state of paranoia and dissatisfaction. That was Yelena - she needed to hear those words of assurance, needed to be reminded by the fact that the rivalry between them was nothing but a fallacy. That even though she couldn’t see it, due to being blinded by the public’s narratives of the both of them, it didn’t change the fact that she was just as good an actress as Natasha.

“For the record though,” Yelena spoke again, her voice measured and small. “I never wanted you to leave.”

“I know, Yelena.” Natasha managed a smile, knowing that Yelena would catch the expression on her face at that moment even though they were states apart. “I know.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know what you think of the chapter, please humour me with your thoughts in this semi-lockdown period hahahaha


	6. the wall between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one where Steve tells Natasha fragments of his story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a longer and quicker update for you guys to indulge in. 
> 
> PS: Buckle up ;)

When Natasha returned to the living room, she found herself in the middle of a casual discussion amongst the three men - the conversation, most of which, was led by Bucky with Sam occasionally jutting in. It took her exactly ten seconds to realise the topic of their conversation, and immediately, she felt an uncomfortable tingle travelling down her arms.

 _Hollywood._ They were talking about Hollywood -- celebrities, movies, the entertainment industry. Where she came from. _Her_ world.

Nevertheless, Natasha managed to get herself seated on the single sofa near the television. She fought hard to ignore Bucky’s words, keeping her eyes trained on the sports channel instead. During her first few days in the farm, she had been comforted by the fact that none of them watched that much television to begin with, and even if they do, it would mostly be for sports, rather than the cable channel for soap dramas or hit movies. She had also been comforted by the fact that she hadn’t appeared in anything that was recent and still airing on the television, and that even if the network had played reruns of any of her older movies or The Black Widow, it would usually be during the time when they would all be working. At that moment, it truly felt that all the stars in the universe had aligned for her, because she had found quite literally the perfect place to be in, and the perfect, clueless people to be surrounded with. 

Until...well, until this conversation, that is - they were casually talking about their favorite _actresses,_ and Natasha felt her heart triple in speed almost at once.

“Okay but Melinda May remains one of the best actresses _ever_.”

Natasha mentally frowned on instinct - _Melinda May?_

“Melina Vostokoff _though_ …”

 _Oh,_ it suddenly struck her, _those names were veteran actresses in the industry._

“You guys forgot about _Thena_. She was everyone’s female crush during high school and you know it.”

“Your tastes are kinda...outdated.” Natasha remarked, only because it had calmed her nerves that they were talking about famous celebrities that hailed from a generation earlier than her.

Steve laughed loudly. “You have to forgive us, really. Years of being in the army has completely cut us out from the recent entertainment industry.”

“Yeah, plus we came back here the moment we finished our service, so there really weren’t any chances of us getting to know the trends lately.” Sam offered an explanation. “I mean, we could search on the internet but it just wouldn’t feel the same. So why bother?”

“Say, Natalie, you would know better.” Bucky piped up suddenly. “Who are the current famous celebrities in Hollywood?” 

The exchange went by in a spur of a moment. She should have anticipated that question, but she didn’t, and Natasha was left gaping at Bucky with a blank stare. She could feel the nervous jitters fluttering into her stomach, the awful, sinking feeling that her secret could potentially be wrecked in a matter of seconds. Her mind was almost in overdrive, trying to think of _any_ names that were famous enough to pass as the current trend of Hollywood while simultaneously _not_ being linked to hers. 

“Diana Prince.” Natasha said eventually, trying not to seem as though she had answered a multimillion dollar question. She managed to add nonchalantly, “Have you heard of her? She’s pretty famous these days.”

Bucky turned to Sam and Steve, the latter two merely shrugged. Seeing their gesture had a mild calming effect on Natasha’s palpitating heart - these three men really had _no_ slightest clue as to what the entertainment industry was like in recent years. It almost felt like she’d hit a jackpot when she chose to come to this farm. 

“I’ll have to search about her soon.” Bucky scratched her chin. “What’s her latest movie?”

“Um,” _crap,_ Natasha mentally cursed, _what was that damn movie Diana was in three years ago that became a major hit -_

And then a voice piped up from behind Natasha, nearly making her jump in her seat. “Is it _Lady of the Amazon_?” 

Lucinda was the person who had said that, her tone laced with slight excitement as Natasha tried to ignore the lump lodged in her throat. She forced herself to nod, even though all she could think of was how _Lucinda_ had known the title of Diana’s latest movie; _Lucinda_ was the last person in this household that she would have assumed to be keeping up with the latest blockbusters. “Yes, it’s...it’s that.”

“I saw that on the television some time ago!” Lucinda exclaimed at once. “It was a great movie.”

Natasha _had_ to respond to that, just to gauge her response. “Lucinda, it seems like you watch more movies than these men here.”

From her peripheral, she saw Bucky snickering, while Sam and Steve merely looked on in anticipation of her answer. Lucinda gave a hearty laugh and replied, “I only catch the ones that are aired on the TV sometimes.”

“That’s because you’re too busy rewatching old movies on the player!” Sam feigned a cough, though his words were still relatively loud and clear on purpose. Lucinda rolled her eyes playfully while Steve laughed, nodding in agreement. “Lucinda, tell Natalie how many times you’ve seen Gone with the Wind and The Sound of Music.”

Even though Natasha was mildly concerned with her predicament - that there was _someone_ after all who may just recognise her one day - she still laughed along to Steve’s comment. She turned to Lucinda calmly, her expression betraying none of her worries. “I can see why you love those two movies, though.”

“See?” Lucinda gestured towards Natasha. “This is why you should have a daughter instead of a son. A daughter _understands._ ”

“Hear that, fellas?” Natasha went along with it playfully, hoping that their topic of conversation might just fade away. “Lucinda likes me best.”

That tactic worked, because Sam shook his head in amusement while Bucky playfully started to list down all the things he’d done for Lucinda. He didn’t stop until Lucinda pretended to wave a white flag in the air, a sign that she had yielded and that Bucky was just as good a ‘son’ as Natasha was as a ‘daughter’.

“By the way, have you fixed the pipes yet?” Lucinda suddenly directed a question to all three men. Natasha raised an eyebrow, recalling faintly that there were some pipe issues two days ago that had resulted in water leakage which had seeped into Steve’s room. They exchanged an apologetic look among each other, and Lucinda heaved a sigh. “Judging from your expressions, I’d say you haven’t. Where’s Steve going to sleep in the meantime?”

“Don’t worry about me, Lucinda.” Steve shrugged while smiling. “There’s plenty of space on the couch.”

Lucinda shook her head in obvious disapproval. “You’re going to hurt your back. Just stay in the spare room at my place, Steve.”

Natasha’s mouth turned into a small ‘o’, remembering the empty room directly beside hers. It was another cosy space, and when she turned her head to the side, she caught Steve directing his attention from her and back at Lucinda. “Well…” He cleared his throat. “If you insist, I guess.”

“Wonderful!” Lucinda clapped her hands, clearly excited to have another person living in the cottage with her. “That’s that, then.”

“I’ll help you move some of your stuff.” Natasha offered in a whisper, leaning into his direction. If she had noticed that the tip of Steve’s ears had gone slightly pink, Natasha chose not to show any indication. Eventually, Steve nodded. “Thanks.”

* * *

After dinner, Natasha kept to her promise of helping Steve, tailing him as he led her to his room. When she stepped into his room, the first thing she had noticed was how impeccably neat and minimalistic his room was, with just a single small potted plant sitting atop the window sill. She kept quiet as Steve began to remove some of his clothes from the wardrobe, packing them into a backpack perched on top of his bed. He was awfully quiet, and Natasha didn’t find it in her to break the silence lingering in the air. Instead, she took a step into the room and started looking around. 

She spotted a few loose papers lying on his desk, and when Natasha peered closer out of curiosity, she found herself staring at random sketches of animals and flowers. “I didn’t know you could draw.” She mused, a smile forming on her lips.

“Ah,” Steve replied casually without looking up from his small pile of clothes. “It’s just a hobby to pass my time.”

“Doesn’t seem like just a hobby to me.” Natasha said, tracing a finger across the outline of his sketch of Dodger and Alpine gently. “You’re a good artist.”

Steve glanced up finally, his eyes trained on Natasha’s side profile, the latter still studying his drawings attentively with a small smile on her lips. He didn’t know why he was reacting this way, especially since Natasha wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary - but he could feel his heart drumming faster beneath his chest. He struggled to find the words to say, even though Natasha had merely complimented him. 

At his long pause, Natasha looked up from his sketches, naturally meeting his gaze from across the room. She quirked an eyebrow slightly, wondering if she had said something wrong. That seemed to break Steve out of his reverie; he rubbed the nape of his neck and gave her a somewhat bashful smile. “Thanks.” 

She smiled back, taking a step away from his desk with her hands clasped together behind her. Something caught her attention immediately; right beside Steve’s desk was a metal chain hung on the wall - it took her a few seconds to realise that it was his military dog tag, engraved with his name. “ _Steven_ ,” Natasha said out loud, her smile broadening as she glanced his way again. “You didn’t tell me your name was _Steven_.”

He blushed, unsure of what to say. 

“What does the _G._ stand for?” Natasha continued, half teasing. “It isn’t...Gertrude or something similar, is it?”

That elicited a laugh from Steve as he shook his head. He walked over to her, eyes now trained on his dog tag - the evidence of his many years serving in the army. “Grant.” He told her. “Steven Grant Rogers is my full name.”

She hummed, then repeated his name out loud. “Steven Grant Rogers. Has a nice ring to it, honestly.”

Steve chuckled, glancing at his dog tag one last time before turning around and walking back to his bed. Rather surprised by his action - or lack of - Natasha tailed behind him quietly. She could tell from the way he was standing, his posture rigid, shoulders tensed, that the dog tag had invoked something within him that he didn’t want to remember. She hesitated. “You aren’t taking that with you?”

“Take what?”

“Your dog tag.”

Steve stopped shoving clothes into his backpack, turning around to face Natasha again. That was when she saw it; the hint of underlying sadness in his eyes, a turmoil of emotions threatening to unravel just by the way he was looking at her. He managed to shake his head. “No.”

A long pause engulfed them, until Natasha took a step closer into him, one hand outstretched to touch his arm gently. “Hey,” She whispered, knowing that she had said something she shouldn’t. “I’m sorry.”

Steve shook his head again. “You don’t have to be. It’s not your fault that I’m reacting this way to a piece of metal.”

Natasha didn’t know what compelled her to say it, but she asked. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She was certain that he would just shake his head and answer no, but Steve paused, hesitation strewn across his face. It seemed like he was contemplating just telling her what was running through his mind, but was still a little afraid to say those words out loud. It was something he had dealt with since he returned from the army; time could heal the scars he had gotten from the war, but it could not wash away the guilt and trauma he had experienced no matter how much he had tried. 

They stood like that for a few more seconds, with Natasha just staring at him patiently, eyes wide and gentle - as if trying to tell him that he could trust her, that she wouldn’t judge him or see him in a different light if he told her what was running a marathon through his mind. Steve opened his mouth slightly, the words resting on the tip of his tongue yet he could not say anything. He was finding it rather difficult when all he could focus on was Natasha’s eyes, a forest of wonder and innocence. It was probably the proximity between the both of them, but it struck Natasha that she was standing awfully close into him, one where she had to tilt her head up to properly meet his gaze. Her eyes flickered naturally to his lips, her heart almost catching in her throat. She wondered for a brief second what it would feel like if she were to just lean up and -- 

Her thoughts were interrupted by two knocks on the door, the moment broken in a split second as Steve took a step back almost at once, finally noticing that he’d been close in her proximity without realising. Natasha merely faced the door, cheeks still a little heated even though her expression was now impassive. 

It was Bucky, and he darted a quick glance between both individuals, the tension in the air palpable. “Sorry, did I interrupt something?”

Natasha shook her head quickly. “Nope. I’m just helping Steve to pack his stuff.”

“O-kay.” Bucky said in a tone that clearly showed that he was unconvinced by her words. Nonetheless, he did not linger on it. “Lucinda wanted me to tell you two that she had gone back first, said she wants to change the sheets for the bed in the spare room.”

“Alright. Thanks, Buck.” Steve said as nonchalant as he could, resuming packing clothes into his backpack. “We should be going off soon too.”

“Cool.” Bucky nodded, meeting eyes with Natasha. It looked like he wanted to say something then, just to tease his two friends, but opted not to in the end. “See you two tomorrow.” He took his leave after that, closing the door behind him.

They did not return to the topic of conversation before the interruption; Natasha edged away, taking her place quietly by the door as Steve zipped his backpack shut. He ended up not bringing much with him, therefore rendering Natasha’s voluntary assistance mute -- it wasn’t as if he was going to move permanently into Lucinda’s cottage anyway. 

“Well, that should suffice.” Steve gestured towards his backpack before flashing her a grin. “Let’s go, housemate.”

Natasha chuckled. “Let’s go.”

  
  


* * *

Hours later, Natasha had been reading a classic she had borrowed from Lucinda’s shelf when she heard it -- soft and faint at first, but enough for her to drop her book and press her ear against the thin wall. She frowned, worry etched on her expression as she caught on the sound of whimpers and muttering, the bed creaking as Natasha pulled back in realisation; Steve was having nightmares, she deduced, nightmares that sounded really painful. In one fleeting moment, Natasha debated if she should go into his room to check up on him, make sure he was okay. But at the last second, she decided against doing that, unsure if Steve would appreciate her gesture. 

Glancing at the clock on her bedside table, Natasha mentally noted that it was 1:33 in the morning. She wondered if the cause of Steve’s sleep disturbances at night had been because of his nightmares, one that she was beginning to suspect had something to do with the war he told her before. _The war, it changes you_ \- was what Steve had said.

A few minutes went by, the air silent once again. Natasha could hear the rustle of the duvet, the spring in the mattress, the heavy breathing; slight sounds of movement indicating that Steve was awake. Nibbling her lower lip, Natasha raised a fist against the wall, a little hesitant initially. Brushing the hesitancy aside, Natasha knocked on the wall a few times, softly at first, so as to not scare him. She cleared her throat. “Hey, are you awake?”

Pause. Complete silence from the other side - Natasha knew at once that he had heard her. She tried again after a few seconds. “Steve?”

And then a reply, muffled by the wall between them, but still loud enough for her to catch. “Sorry, Nat. Did I wake you?”

“You can’t wake someone who hasn’t even fallen asleep.” She chuckled lightly, hoping to ease his guilt. She was leaning against her bed frame, eyes trained at nothing in particular. 

Steve heaved a sigh of frustration, his tone became smaller. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Steve.” Natasha replied without missing a beat, in a tone that was firm and assuring. “You really need to stop apologising, what are you, a _saint_?”

It was an attempt to lighten the situation, one that although she couldn’t see his reaction, Natasha still hoped that it would somehow make Steve feel better. She contemplated asking Steve if he wanted to take their usual stroll tonight, but she figured that after having heard his episode, he may not want to, so she kept mum. When she didn’t hear a response from him, Natasha decided to just speak of anything that was on her mind as a form of distraction, her eyes landing on the cover of the book lying on her bed.

“I’ve been reading for the past two hours.” Natasha started, picking the novel up as she flipped the pages to where she’d stopped reading. “ _Jane Eyre_. I remember reading this when I was younger, but I’ve forgotten most of it. But I do remember liking the female protagonist; she had a mind of her own.”

From the other side, Steve was listening, taking in her words as he leaned back against the wall. His breathing was still somewhat irregular, sweat still glistening down his temples, so he shut his eyes and started taking deep breaths, all the while listening to Natasha’s clear voice - he knew that their beds were arranged in an adjacent manner, separated only by the thin wall between them. He had a feeling that Natasha had launched into this story-telling session as a distraction for him, and somehow, knowing that was enough to send warmth unfurling across his stomach. Even though they were separated by the wall, just listening to Natasha speak was comforting, in a way that was calming his palpitating heart.

“I don’t know if you’re a _Classics_ sort of man,” She laughed softly. “but something tells me that you would appreciate strong, female characters, too.”

That made Steve smile, even if it was just a little; his mind was still a little hazy from the vivid nightmare he’d just woke up from, goosebumps still ghosting on his arms. His throat was still clamped shut, even though he wanted to reply to Natasha, to let her know he was listening. 

Natasha didn’t seem to mind the lack of response though, for she continued. “I’m at the chapter where Jane rescues Mr. Rochester from the fire. Here’s where things get interesting, I suppose, because Jane will soon realise that she has feelings for him.” She paused. “What’s classic literature without a love interest, right?” 

“What do you…” Steve took another deep breath, the clouds in his mind clearing away. “...think about that?”

Hearing his question made Natasha smile, to know that he was beginning to calm down and that at the very least he _was_ paying attention to her little monologue. “I think, that I am absolutely grateful that I wasn’t born in that era. Imagine having your entire life measured by your ability to marry well.”

As his heart rate returned to normal, Steve nodded subconsciously, agreeing to her statement. He’d seen enough movies from the olden days to know that Natasha was right. “But they loved each other, no?”

“They were lucky,” She replied easily. “that they found each other. Fictional characters have it easy, don’t you think? Most of the time, they always get their happy ending.”

“Well,” Steve opened his eyes slowly, adjusting to the darkness of his room. His line of sight aimed at the only streak of moonlight streaming in from his window. “I can think of a few with tragic endings.”

He heard her laughter bouncing off the four walls of her room - and this time, Steve smiled broadly. “Please don’t say Romeo and Juliet.” Natasha said, shaking her head. 

“You said them first.” Steve countered, before hearing Natasha’s mutter of amusement. “Alright, fine.”

Silence breached over them after that, with both of them just staring into space. After gathering the words in his mind, Steve spoke again - three simple words that quite immediately put a smile on Natasha’s face. _“Thank you, Nat.”_

“As long as you are all right now, Steve.” She replied genuinely, thinking about the moment earlier in the evening in Steve’s original room. The look on his face, his slumped shoulders - there was definitely something that was bothering him for a long time, one that after tonight’s episode, Natasha had an inkling she knew what it was. But unless Steve explicitly told her himself, she wasn’t going to bring it up, so Natasha decided to switch the topic. “So, you’re an artist.”

“It’s just something I've liked to do since I was a kid.” Steve said, noticing at once her attempt of diversion (again), so that he wouldn’t be thinking about things he didn’t want to. “I once thought of pursuing a degree in arts, but I guess life doesn’t always go the way you envisioned it to be.”

That sentence struck a chord within Natasha almost immediately; it resonated well within her heart, of her own set of problems. She drew her legs towards her chest, hugging her knees tightly. “I know what you mean.” 

“Natalie?” 

“Yeah?”

It was difficult to truly explain why he felt that way, but in that second, Steve was filled with an urge to just tell Natasha about the inner battle he was fighting by himself. He took a deep breath, and the words he’d had difficulties in forming seemed to flow out of his mouth easily, comforted by the fact that the person at the receiving end was someone he had grown to trust, even in such a short span of time. 

“The dog tag,” He started slowly, but without hesitation. “I displayed it at a place easily noticeable because I thought in doing so, it would help normalise things for me.”

The second she heard that, Natasha sat up straighter, knowing that Steve was finally opening up to her, he was finally telling his story. She didn’t want to interrupt him, so she kept mum, and Steve took that as a prompt to continue. “Rather than keep it in my drawers and try to forget my experience serving in the army, you know? I don’t want that. The fact that I had the chance to serve my country. It was an honour and...I was proud of it.”

Natasha expelled her breath slowly. “But?” 

Steve hesitated, a long pause ensued before he mustered the courage to continue. “I made some wrong calls and gave the wrong commands. As a result…” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Bucky lost his arm, and another soldier - his name was Rick, he...he didn’t make it.” 

Natasha felt her heart clenched at those words, having half the mind to just march into Steve’s room and pull him into a warm hug; he was ridden with guilt even after all the years that have passed, and Natasha was overwhelmed by a feeling of wanting to help him ease that pain. It didn’t make sense to her that she would feel this way for someone she’d just met not so long ago, but Natasha _wanted_ to do that.

“It was a casualty that could have been avoided if I had strategised better. If I was a better leader.”

“Steve…”

“I almost lost Bucky. I almost lost my best friend because of this mistake. And Rick...he had people waiting for him at home.” Steve’s lower lip started to tremble, his hands shaking slightly. Saying those words out loud were different than just thinking about them, and now that he had said it out loud to Natasha, Steve had to remind himself to breathe. His heart was pounding again, of grief and guilt that he never truly got over, that he was sure that he would carry with him for the rest of his life. “It should have been me. Not Rick. It should have been me.”

Those words were enough to snap Natasha from her initial hesitation. Almost at once, she was scrambling out of her bed, completely ignoring the fact that she may be invading Steve’s privacy by doing this - in a matter of seconds, she had stepped into his room, taking light steps towards his desolate, unmoving figure on the bed. Steve didn’t even glance up, even though he felt her presence, felt her sitting on the edge of his bed carefully. 

“Steve,” Natasha breathed out, eyes wide with concern and sympathy. “look at me.”

He obeyed, looking at her in a gaze that, even in the dark, Natasha could interpret as a feeling of defeat. “What happened during the war was unfortunate but...you’ve done all that you can.” She stated firmly. “Bucky and Sam would have been devastated if something were to happen to you. So you shouldn’t...you shouldn’t say something like that.”

There was a certain edge in her tone; of genuine concern for his well being, that softened his features. It somehow brought him back into reality, a reminder that he wasn’t alone. “I know.” Steve whispered, acknowledging the truth in her statement. “but the nightmares...they feel so real and I just…I can’t...” He shook his head a few times, heaving a sigh afterwards. 

“Have you…” Natasha paused, hesitating slightly. Steve glanced back into her direction, prompting her to resume her sentence. “...sought professional help?” 

Steve nodded calmly - he had expected that question. “I did, a year ago. I was getting better, so I stopped.” Not wanting to worry Natasha any further though, Steve forced himself to smile. “The walks, they usually do help. The nightmares don’t come often, either. So you don’t have to worry about me that much.”

“Do you want to go for a walk now?” Natasha tilted her head to the side, right into where the stream of moonlight had been shining in from the outside. Steve could feel his breath catching in his throat, his eyes never leaving hers; they were gleaming brightly, her green irises filled with layers of kindness and warmth that sent his heart skipping a beat. The smile on Natasha’s lips was soft and encouraging, and in that brief second, Steve thought that he has never seen anyone this beautiful in his entire life.

“Yeah, sure.” He managed to nudge the words out of his tongue.

Natasha merely beamed.

* * *

During the weekend, Natasha volunteered to follow Bucky into town to get groceries and some farm supplies. After buying the necessary, Natasha decided to drop Mabel an overdue visit while Bucky popped into another store, to which the older woman appreciated. Mabel was glad that Natasha was slowly adapting to the farming life, noting that she was starting to blend in like the locals in that area. Natasha laughed, and Mabel pointed out that she looked calmer, less agitated and definitely happier than before.

They said their goodbyes after fifteen minutes, upon seeing Bucky’s pickup truck pulling up at the front. When Natasha got into the front seat, Bucky was already asking her a question. “This is where you stayed before this?” 

“Yeah,” She nodded. 

“I heard that their rooms are pretty small.” He asked. “Did you get used to it quickly?”

Natasha was a little confused with his questions, they seemed a bit off, and Bucky was somewhat acting in a demeanour that wasn’t quite him. She glanced into his direction. “Where are you going with this?”

“Nothing.” Bucky shrugged, unfazed by her question. “I was just curious.”

She paused for a moment before answering his initial question, shrugging her confusion aside. “It was alright. I didn’t need a big space.”

“Oh.” He responded, and said nothing else. Silence washed over them as Natasha leaned back into her seat. This wasn’t her first time ever having a conversation with Bucky alone, but somehow, there was an air of awkwardness radiating from him. When Bucky drove out of town and into the pathway that would lead them home, Natasha decided to break the tension in the air. “Can I ask you something, Bucky?”

He replied a beat after. “Sure, what is it?”

“It’s about Steve.” Natasha figured that there was no one better to ask this question than to Bucky. “Surely you must be aware of his...condition.”

It was rather obvious that Bucky knew exactly what Natasha was talking about; his forehead creased, eyebrows furrowed together. He met with her eyes briefly before focusing back on the road ahead. “He told you about it?”

“Sort of.” Natasha replied. “He was...having nightmares last night, so we...talked.”

“I see.” Bucky frowned. “That’s surprising to hear, to be honest.”

It was Natasha’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Why?”

“He doesn’t like talking about it.” Bucky said after a short pause. “He just shuts himself out whenever Sam and I try to talk to him about it. _Especially_ me. So to hear that he has spoken to you about it just...well, it’s just a little surprising, that’s all.”

“I hope it’s a good kind of surprise.” Natasha nibbled on her lower lip nervously. 

This time, Bucky threw her a small smile. “It is, definitely. He seems to trust you enough so...it’s all good. Better, even. Because then he doesn’t have to keep it all to himself.”

“You mean he doesn’t talk to you or Sam about it? At all?” 

Bucky sighed, shaking his head. “I have a feeling it’s because he still blames himself for what happened to me, even though I’ve told him many times that it wasn’t his fault.” 

Natasha nodded, remembering what Steve had told her the night before - they were verifications of what Bucky had just told her, of the prolonged guilt that was still etched deep within his heart. 

“But you know what?” Bucky started again, snapping Natasha out of her mild reverie. “I have a feeling he’s going to get better.”

“I hope so.” Natasha responded without thinking much of his words. 

Bucky was smiling. “He doesn’t say it out loud, but I can see that he is a lot happier these days. Because, _you know._ ”

Natasha glanced at Bucky again, wondering if there was an underlying meaning to his sentence - it sounded like there was something he had alluded to, but she couldn’t quite place a finger on what. She didn’t respond to his statement, unsure of how to, so a few seconds of silence went by before Natasha spoke again. “What about you? And Sam? Are you two...alright?”

“Oh, yeah.” Bucky chuckled. “We have each other, so…”

It took Natasha exactly 2 seconds to understand what Bucky had said, and her eyes widened just slightly, a natural smile splitting across her face. “Wait, you _and_ Sam? Why didn’t you two say anything?”

“I thought we were kinda obvious.” He shrugged, still grinning. “Steve always says we bicker like an old married couple.”

Now that Bucky has said it out loud, it only just dawned onto Natasha that he was right. They _do_ bicker like an old married couple. She laughed at the memories fleeting across her mind. “Okay, I do see it now.” Natasha reached for her bottle of water just then. “I’m happy for you two, obviously.”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded in agreement. “I was lucky, I guess.”

Natasha simply smiled, raising the bottle to her lips. It was a surprising information to learn, given that she hadn’t suspected anything even though she’d already been staying on the farm for more than two weeks. She figured that it was because Bucky and Sam weren’t ones to be outrightly affectionate to each other, they seemed to be a more private couple, if any.

“So, do you like Steve?”

Natasha nearly spat out the water she was drinking, eyes widening in utter surprise at the sudden question Bucky had posed towards her. She coughed a few times while Bucky looked on unapologetically, before finding the word to reply him. “W-what?”

“Do you like Steve?” Bucky repeated, a grin on his face. “It’s a simple question.”

She patted her chest a few times, trying to calm her pounding heart. “Why are you suddenly asking this question?”

“Because I’ve been observing,” He chuckled. “annnnd I see the _sparks_ between the two of you.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Natasha stated, clearly flustered.

Bucky winked playfully. “I think I can tell a lie when I see one.”

“Bucky...you’re deluding yourself. I like Steve as a friend, that’s it.”

“Really?”

“Yes!” Natasha threw one hand in the air. “There’s nothing going on between us.”

“But do you _want_ something to happen between the two of you though?”

She sighed. “James,"

“Hey, don’t _James_ me.” Bucky wagged a finger into her direction, as if admonishing her. “It’s a yes or a no question. And you haven’t answered.”

Natasha was rendered speechless, completely dumbfounded by the sudden turmoil of emotion spreading like waves across her heart. When she’d agreed to go shopping with Bucky that morning, she would never have expected to be bombarded with sudden questions revolving around a man she obviously knew she liked, but was unsure to what extent. She groaned, knowing that Bucky had just planted this realisation into her mind and Natasha was positive that after this, she wasn’t going to be able to stop thinking about the prospect of her _and_ Steve getting together. 

“I told you, didn’t I? That Steve is a lot happier these days.” Bucky continued. “It’s because of _you_.”

Natasha could feel heat on her cheeks the second she heard those words. So _that_ was what Bucky had been alluding to earlier - _her_. Just the thought of those words being true sent her heart stuttering beneath her chest. God, why was she acting like this - she wasn’t a high school girl anymore!

“That’s too quick of a judgement to make.” Natasha reasoned when she found her voice again.

“Nah.” He disagreed easily. “Steve probably wouldn’t say anything to you but I know for sure that he likes you too.”

“How would you know?” She retorted.

“I’m his best friend, remember?” Bucky said sheepishly. “I know a lot of things about him, including whether or not he likes someone. It’s very telling.”

Her heart was pounding. “But...but how?”

“One, he actually opened up to you and told you about his condition.” He said pointedly. “Two, and there’s nothing more obvious than this; from the way he looks at you.” Bucky threw her another grin, noting the obvious flush on her cheeks. “There’s obviously _something_ going on between the two of you. Don’t you even try to deny.”

Truthfully, Natasha couldn’t find it in her to deny, not when deep down, there was a certain conviction within her that acknowledged what Bucky had just said. She thought about all their moments together, quiet and trusting, all the midnight strolls they’ve shared with each other. The events from yesterday remained fresh in her mind, including how Steve had visibly relaxed during their walk as they talked about random things they could think about. _Try to get some sleep,_ was what he’d whispered to her once they returned to Lucinda’s house. And Natasha, she’d smiled and said _you too,_ before leaning up to plant a soft, chaste kiss on his cheek. 

She hadn’t dwelled on that peck she had given him on the cheek - her inner voice had repeated it was just a small _gesture of friendship_ , nothing else. But now? The memory was burning in the back of her mind. _Shit._

“You’re blushing really hard right now.” Bucky smirked at her reaction, and Natasha looked away immediately.

“If that’s true, then I’m flattered. But,” Natasha paused, her mind suddenly intertwined with dozens of thoughts; of the truth she had kept hidden from Steve and the rest, of the foreseeable reaction of the public if they found out. In all honesty, she was afraid - Steve did not deserve to be entangled in this already complicated situation of hers. Natasha looked at Bucky again. “it _isn’t_ my place to hope for something to happen.” 

“Why not?” Bucky challenged. “You like Steve, and he likes you. It shouldn’t be too difficult an equation to solve.”

She shook her head, sighing. “You don’t understand.”

“Actually, I think I do understand,” There’s a sudden shift in the tone he was using, one that had her furrowing her eyebrows together. Bucky inhaled, then exhaled calmly. “ _Natasha._ ”


	7. companionship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one where Bucky knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thank you all for the massive feedback I've gotten for the previous chapter - I was truly and pleasantly surprised to have received such a huge response from all of you because of the cliffhanging ending. It definitely fuelled my motivation to write so here's an early update that will hopefully answer the questions you have about Bucky. 
> 
> Enjoy! ;)

The realisation sunk in almost immediately after she had heard Bucky calling her real name, her breath hitching in shock. Even though her heart was hammering beneath her chest, even though she could feel the lump latching itself onto her throat, Natasha didn’t waver. She maintained her gaze on Bucky, leaning against the passenger door. Her first reaction to this entire revelation was to be angry at the man sitting beside her, because he  _ knew  _ who she was. He knew her identity, but he never told her. But her next reaction was to chide herself for that spark of animosity towards Bucky. Why should she be angry at him when  _ she  _ was the one who had lied to everyone about who she was in the first place?

A few more seconds lapsed, until Natasha found her voice again, albeit softly. She was surprisingly calmer than she had expected, her heart settling down slowly. “How long have you known?” 

Bucky was a little bit surprised that Natasha didn't try to get herself out of this situation, pretended that she didn't understand what he was alluding to. He gave her a small smile of apology, as though _he_ was the one who felt guilty for knowing her true identity. “Not immediately.” He replied. “I’ve seen some news about your disappearance, but I couldn’t connect the dots initially because of your hairstyle. I mean, I wasn’t even really reading them, anyway, it was more of a headlines sort of thing. Plus, I really meant it when I said I wasn’t in touch with the current Hollywood trends, you included.”

Natasha nodded in acceptance. “So what gave it away?”

“Remember the other day in the living room?” Bucky asked. “When we were talking about our favourite actresses, and I asked you who are the famous celebrities these days?”

Natasha closed her eyes in reflex.  _ Of course. _

He went on. “I thought it was odd that it took you a long time to answer a question that should otherwise be easy for you, since you were from the city.”

A long pause ensued as Natasha tried to form a reply in her head. “I’ve never worked with Diana.” She explained. “It was why I said her name. I thought if you decided to google about her, you wouldn’t find anything about me because there isn’t any link between us.”

“And you were right.” Bucky nodded. “But somehow, it still bothered me, and an inner voice told me to go back to the articles written about your hiatus. I finally looked at your pictures online  _ properly  _ and that’s when it struck me; you really  _ are  _ Natasha Romanoff.”

Even when Bucky had finished telling her the story of how he found out about her identity, Natasha had taken everything in calmly. She had expected full blown panic to hit her, a tidal wave of anxiety crashing into her over something she had fretted for weeks, tried her best to hide from everyone else. But as Natasha sat there in Bucky’s pickup truck, as she sat there while staring at his expression and studying his demeanour, Natasha soon realised that it didn’t quite matter that someone from the farm had discovered the truth. It was apparent by now, as naive as it sounded like, that Steve wasn’t the only person she’d trust.

She inhaled, then exhaled. “Do the others know?”

Bucky shook his head quickly. “They don’t, and I doubt they will. Sam has zero interest over entertainment news, Lucinda mostly watches old films, while Steve doesn’t even own a smartphone. It’s just me.”

Natasha should feel relief over hearing that, but she still couldn’t find the spirit to smile. Instead, she chose to apologise, believing it as something she ought to do. “I’m really sorry, Bucky.”

He raised an eyebrow in reflex. “Whatever for?”

“I lied to you. To all of you.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “And though I hate to say this, I would understand if you want me to stop working here, or if you want to tell the others about who I -”

“Okay hold on,” Bucky lifted one hand immediately to stop Natasha mid-sentence. “first off, your secret is safe with me. I will  _ not _ tell anyone about you.” 

Natasha exhaled a sigh of gratitude just as Bucky continued. “Second of all, you are  _ Natasha Romanoff. _ I may not have seen any of your work, but from reading your Wikipedia -” She snorted in amusement. “- I know for sure that you’re  _ huge _ . And it would be absolutely  _ heartless  _ of me to chase you out, especially when you’re going through such tough times.”

“Such tough times?”

“Natasha,” Bucky’s features softened. “you’re _ tired _ . I saw that since the first day you came to the farm and back then I wasn’t even aware of your occupation. I’m  _ not  _ going to chase someone seeking refuge away. I’m not that sort of person.”

Natasha blinked, letting his words sink in slowly; her instinct told her that he was sincere, that there was no ulterior motive from Bucky when he said that. His words warmed her heart, and she felt her stomach knotting with mixed emotions. She swallowed the bitter bile that was building up in her throat, one that was threatening to wet her eyes. “Thank you, Bucky.” Natasha managed to force the words out without sounding as though she was about to burst into tears. No. She wouldn’t cry in front of Bucky - she was much stronger than that. “That means a lot to me, really.”

Bucky merely shrugged. “And I really do mean what I said earlier about keeping your secret. I promise that you’ll be safe here, at least until you decide what to do forward.”

By then, she had a more concerning question to ask. “Will this change things between us?”

Bucky grinned - the same way he had since the first day he met her. “Hey, to me, you’re Wilson & Son’s Natalie Rushman. Not Natasha Romanoff. So, no.” He reassured her firmly. “My knowing your secret won’t change anything between us.”

The corner of her lips tugged upward slightly, gratitude spreading across her heart.

He quickly continued. “I mean, I’ll still want to have your autograph though if that’s fine with you. I’ve never met anyone famous before.”

Natasha laughed, her laughter genuine. “Consider that done, as long as you don’t sell it off e-bay or something.” She warned in a teasing tone - she knew he wouldn’t do that. 

“And have you met Melinda May before?  _ Please _ tell me you have.”

“I have, a long time ago.” Natasha humored him. “She’s really nice, if you’re wondering.”

At that moment, Bucky looked like a proud fanboy. He was practically beaming as he pulled into the farm’s driveway. Upon realisation that they’d reached home, Natasha couldn’t help her instinct of reaching out to tug onto one of Bucky’s sleeves, a gesture for him to look at her. He did, after parking the vehicle, one eyebrow raised. 

Her voice was measured and small. “Bucky? About Steve...I…” She couldn’t find the words to finish her sentence, so she merely stared on, wondering if Bucky could understand what she was trying to say.

Bucky did, nodding slightly. “I think I understand what you are afraid of.” He began to explain slowly. “I’ve seen some of the headlines of your past relationships, and they weren’t pleasant.”

“Do you believe them?” She had to ask, her gaze wavering.

“Honestly?” Bucky smiled. “I don’t. Because if they were the truth, you wouldn’t be here today.”

She chuckled, almost bitterly. There was obvious reasoning in Bucky’s statement, and she was thankful he seemed to understand her decision of escaping from stardom. “It’s as if  _ I  _ was the only person that had attributed to the failure of my past relationships.”

“Well, fuck those good for nothing journalists!” Bucky exclaimed hotly as he waved his hand in the air protectively; an action that had Natasha smiling in amusement. “They don’t deserve you. I’m glad you took a hiatus and I’m even more glad you decided to work on our farm.” He had that familiar, playful glint that Natasha spotted even before he continued his sentence. “Like, how many farmers out there can say that an A-list Actress has worked on their farm before, and has gotten her hands dirty trying to feed the cows, pigs and horses?”

“The answer is  _ none, _ because you aren’t supposed to tell anyone that I am -” Natasha admonished slightly, to which Bucky responded with a loud laugh. He raised both his good hand and his prosthetic hand in mock surrender, a sign that he would definitely keep to his promise earlier. “But Natasha?”

She raised an eyebrow, prompting him to continue. “Steve is different from all of those guys you’ve dated.” Bucky stated, lowering his voice. “And the press won’t be able to find you here. So...why not?”

It took her some time to answer, but she did eventually. “I’m afraid.” It was such a simple admittance. “Not just for myself, but for Steve, too. You’ve seen my life on the internet. You’ve seen how nasty people could be. I don’t think it’s fair for Steve to be entangled in the harshness of my world. You wouldn’t want that for him, I’m sure.”

Bucky took in her words slowly before opening his mouth again to reply. “Take this with a grain of salt if you must but what’s not fair,” He paused slightly. “is you making your  _ own _ decision on behalf of Steve.”

She couldn’t answer him, not at once, anyway. And even when she did, Natasha didn’t even think she sounded convincing. “It’s complicated, Bucky.”

Just then, the front door of the farmhouse swung open, Lucinda appearing in view with Sam tailing behind. She was already making her way towards the pickup truck, ready to help carry in the groceries they had bought on her behalf. Bucky unbuckled his seatbelt, opening the door. Before he stepped out though, Bucky turned to look at Natasha again. “It doesn’t have to be complicated if you don’t  _ make _ it complicated.” 

His words continued to ring in her head for the rest of the day.

* * *

Days after, while fixing the shed for the hens together, Sam decided to be upfront about something he had been curious about for days, a sentiment which was shared by Bucky as well.

“What’s up with you and Natalie?”

Steve paused, the hammer in his hand halting mid-air for two seconds. He frowned just a little, his eyebrows knitted together before he went on with his task that afternoon. “What do you mean?”

“Come on, Steve.” Sam gave him a pointed look - as if to say that he wasn’t going to fall for his attempt to act oblivious. “You know what I’m talking about.”

Steve’s reply was not immediate; he finished hammering the nail into the board before saying, “There’s nothing going on between us.”

Sam wasn’t going to give in that easily, so he pressed on. “But you like her, don’t you?”

“Of course I like her.”

“I don’t mean as friends and you know it.”

There was a long pause until Steve heaved a sigh. He knew what his friend was doing, what he wanted to get out of this conversation. But there really was nothing for him to say, not when Steve had been persistently ignoring the little voice in his head telling him that he knew  _ exactly  _ what Sam was saying. He opted for a little white lie in the end. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Sam.”

“Say  _ yes _ , Steve.” Sam offered as gently as possible, so as to not annoy his friend. “Because we both know that’s the right answer.”

It was a line of thought he had brought up one evening with Bucky. Sam had asked him if he realised something was amiss with their other best friend, in a way that shone because Steve’s disposition was different these days; he was in a better mood, smiling more than he usually would. The aura he had exuded in general just felt significantly happier, Sam had pointed out. Bucky had turned to him and gave him the widest grin before saying -  _ so you’ve noticed that, too? _

It wasn’t difficult for them to solve the puzzle; the only variation in their mundane routine had come in the form of one person, an addition they never would have expected in their small farm family. 

Steve didn’t deny, nor did he affirm what Sam had just said. Instead, he threw another question back at Sam. “Why are we having this conversation again?”

“Cause I haven’t seen you this relaxed in years, until she came along.” Sam answered easily, without hesitation. “And honestly, I’m excited for you.”

He frowned. “What for?”

Sam stopped what he was doing to look at his best friend. “How long are you going to play this oblivious game for, Steve?”

“I genuinely don’t understand why you’re excited for me.”

“I’m just saying, that if you just give yourself a chance, you might find yourself in a happier situation.”

There was a momentary pause, one that Sam knew as Steve understanding his exact words clearly. The latter didn’t bother to act oblivious this time, he looked at Sam straight in the eyes and said, “I don’t think I’m ready yet, Sam.” 

Sam sighed - words he was extremely familiar with. Those were the same words Steve had uttered over the years whenever he or Bucky tried to get him to go out for dates, meet new people at least. But this time, Sam persisted. “It’s been  _ years _ , Steve. Don’t you miss it?”

“Miss what?”

“Companionship.” 

“I can live without it.”

“That’s because you haven’t found anyone that you share an instant connection with,  _ until  _ Natalie.” Sam retorted. “You can’t say you can live without companionship if you’ve never even given yourself a chance to experience life  _ with  _ a companion.”

That was enough to silence Steve; Sam had a point, after all. He didn’t know what to counter or say in return.

“Bucky and I, we just want you to be happy.” Sam continued in lieu of his silence. “And we both think that  _ Natalie _ may just be the one to do that. You just need to give her a chance.”

“You know I have issues to deal with.” Steve sighed eventually. “It isn’t fair to burden her with my past baggage.”

“In that case, you’re underestimating her. Have you seen her around the farm? She’s tough, Steve.”

“I doubt she would want to be with someone damaged like me.”

“That isn’t a fair statement to make on behalf of Natalie. How would you know that? You’re not her. If you don’t try, you would never know.”

For the second time in that conversation, Steve was rendered speechless once again. Gradually, he stopped trying to hammer the nails into the board, putting his hammer down. Sam took a step closer into him, squatting so that he was closer to Steve.

“Look, you gave up your chance on love years ago because you put our country first. We all understood that decision. But now? You’re not in the army anymore, Steve. You’ve been out of the service for years.” Sam paused, lowering his voice. “Don’t let this opportunity slip by you again. For once, Steve, put yourself first. Do that for us. Do that for  _ yourself. _ ”

For the longest of time, it had been easy for Steve to brush aside the constant plea of his two best friends in trying to get him to put himself out in the world again. It was easy, when Steve had no motivation or intention to do so, nothing that could change his mind. It was easy, when Steve had been sure that no one was able to make him care about something as abstract as love again. 

Now? He wasn’t so sure anymore. Not when he closed his eyes and the first thing - or rather, the first  _ person _ \- he saw flitting across his mind was a certain woman with the brightest, most dazzling eyes he has ever seen in his entire life. 

Maybe this time, Steve thought to himself silently, maybe this time, something could finally change.

* * *

When night fell and the moon had risen, Natasha heard him again, shortly after he had said goodnight to her and retreated into his room. 

This time, Natasha put aside her book and got down from her bed swiftly. She didn’t hesitate when she left her room to peek cautiously into his, her heart troubled by the fact that Steve was going through another episode that night. She didn’t think much this time as she stepped into his room, taking slow steps towards his bed. She nibbled her lower lip, seeing how much he was suffering; it took her everything not to rush to his side. Natasha knew that she had to tread carefully in this situation, to not interfere unnecessarily for the benefit of both herself and Steve. Still, that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt watching him in this state; it hurts that all she could do was to watch from the side and wait it out.

It seemed like forever, even though only a minute had gone by. Steve stopped tossing and turning, his whimpers reducing. He was stirring slowly, and that was when Natasha decided to call his name, softly at first. 

“Steve...” Natasha paused, then tried again. Steve’s eyes were still closed, his breathing still heavy and shallow. It was only when Natasha saw how much he was shivering, his hands trembling that she sat carefully on the edge of his bed, whispering over and over again, “Hey, you’re okay, you’re okay.”

He finally pried his eyes open, adjusting to the semi darkness of the room. When he realised what had happened, Steve sat up in a rush, hands clutching his head as he tried to will the images from his mind away. He barely heard her when Natasha whispered, “Steve, I’ll be right back.”

Steve barely acknowledged her, the spring of the mattress creaking just slightly as Natasha left hurriedly. He slumped his shoulders in defeat, leaning into his bed frame as he tried to steady his breathing. Steve closed his eyes, trying to imagine something else other than the vivid images of the war, of Rick’s battered body in his arms. Think happy thoughts, Steve told himself repeatedly, think happy thoughts. 

He thought about his late mother, Sarah Rogers, the first woman he had ever loved; selfless, kind-hearted, someone who loved him with every fibre of her being. Their memories together drew a smile on his lips almost at once. He thought about Bucky and Sam, his two best friends who had gone through thick and thin with him, who had been there every step of the way, supporting him, loving him. He thought about Lucinda, the sweetest, most caring lady who regarded him like her own son. All these thoughts were sufficient to calm his palpitating heart, to stop himself from breaking further into cold sweats. 

“Steve?” 

At the sound of his name, Steve’s eyes fluttered open, and the first thing he saw was a pair of green eyes looking right at him, concern etched on her face. His mind was blank, his thoughts replacing themselves with nothing but  _ her. _

_ Natalie _ \- his attention diverted straight to the woman now sitting on his bed, clutching onto a piece of clean cloth. Wordlessly, she reached out to him slowly, giving ample of time for him to flinch if he wasn’t comfortable with what she was about to do. He didn’t, eyes trained on her as he caught hold of her expression. He was almost too mesmerised by her to say anything, not even when Natasha tenderly dabbed the warm, slightly wet cloth onto his forehead, wiping away the sweat that had formed on his face because of the nightmare. It was a gesture that was extremely comforting, and Steve found himself relishing in how gentle, how careful Natasha was treating him. His heart was drumming faster once again, but this time, he knew it was for an entirely different reason.

“Nat?” Steve finally found his voice again. “What are you doing here?” 

She retracted her hand, pausing for a few seconds. “I heard you.” Natasha said in the end, not quite answering his question. 

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “You shouldn’t...you should have just ignored me.” 

“I can’t do that.” Natasha replied, her tone adamant and firm. “I’m your friend. And I want to help you.”

Steve edged further away from her, shaking his head. The consequence of her action finally dawning upon him, it was enough to swiftly draw the walls around him once again. “I could have hurt you.”

From his peripheral, he could see her shaking her head once. “You didn’t, and I was careful.”

But Steve refused to accept her answer, refused to even look at her. He was pushing her away, hoping to make a statement, hoping that she wouldn’t be this rash again. “You can’t predict that I wouldn’t, next time. I still could have hurt you, it would have been easy...I wouldn’t be able to control it.”

“Steve, don’t.” Natasha nearly pleaded. “I’m a grown woman. I can take care of myself.”

He didn’t say anything. Steve kept his eyes on the wall beside him, his hands fisting around his duvet tightly. In that brief moment, at her words, he vaguely remembered what Sam told him just two afternoons ago - that she was a tough woman, that she could  _ handle  _ him. That he was underestimating her capabilities by not giving her a chance. That thought left a bitter aftertaste in him, because Steve was almost too afraid to acknowledge the truth of Sam’s statement, especially after what Natasha was doing for him tonight. 

Steve nearly jumped when he felt Natasha curling her hand around his wrist lightly. It was enough for him to tear his gaze from the wall, so that he was looking at her again - one thought flickered across his mind in an instant; why was she doing this? Her fingertip seemed to burn on his skin, but not in a way that was uncomfortable. In fact, it was anything but, and Steve could feel the lump returning to his throat.

“If you want to talk to me, I’m all ears.” She started again, her voice patient and kind. “I am a good listener, you know.” 

What did he do to deserve her friendship? 

“Or if you don’t want to talk, that’s fine too.” Natasha quickly added. “I can just stay here with you until you feel better.”

Not knowing what to say, Steve opted to show her instead, by covering his hand over her hand that was holding onto his wrist. He held onto her gaze in that silence that ensued, doing nothing except reading each other’s expressions. Steve could still see the worry in her eyes, they were subtle, hidden under the mask of her smile, but he could still see it. He mustered a smile, hoping that it would ease her heart a little. “I’m okay.” He managed to whisper in the end.

She smiled, accepting his curt answer. Natasha relaxed her fingers around his wrist, the warmth of his hand seeping into hers - it was a comfortable feeling, so she didn’t move her hand away. “What do you feel like doing?”

He thought about it for a bit, the answer eventually slipping into his mind subconsciously. Steve looked away briefly, his tone sheepish when he requested, “Could you tell me what’s going on with Jane now?”

Natasha blinked, not understanding him initially, until it suddenly hit her. She had to stifle a laugh at that realisation. “Steve Rogers, when did you become a fan of Jane Eyre?”

He managed a halfhearted grin. “Since the day you told me about her story.”

She chuckled, then shifted slightly, finally pulling her hand away. The loss of contact was stark, as Steve retracted his own hand as well, the sudden emptiness weighing onto his heart. “I’ll go grab the book, then.” Natasha smiled while standing. “Be right back.”

Companionship, it was a funny thing. One second, Steve hadn’t so much as even thought about it, but the next second, with Natasha turning around and leaving his room, he was filled with the urge to reach out and just...hold her hand again, to feel the touch of another person on his skin, the feeling almost haunting. Sam’s words were ringing in his mind over and over again, it was as though he had purposely planted it into his mind and now the switch was stuck because no matter what Steve tried to do, he couldn’t put the thought behind him. To bask in the feeling of another person’s presence, of her warm and assuring touch. It was something he has not felt in the longest of time, and now that he had gotten a taste of it, however small it was - Steve realised that he truly  _ did _ miss that feeling.

When Natasha returned, cradling the book in her hand, Steve could feel his heart stuttering. As she settled back onto her previous spot, Steve found himself whispering. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” She simply replied with a shrug. “But...I want to. There’s a difference, Steve.”

“But why?” 

“I don’t have a particular reason. Just because.” Natasha stated. “Unless of course...you’re not comfortable with this?”

“Not exactly the word I’d use.” Steve whispered, meeting her eyes once more. “I’m just trying to understand you, Nat.”

She tilted her head to the side, a little confused. “Me?”

“I’m just...trying to see why you would be willing to do this for me.”

“Maybe I’m just nice like that.” She joked, keeping the situation lighthearted. “Or maybe I just like helping a friend.”

“Is that what we are?” Steve’s smile faded slightly. “Friends?”

Her heart thumped, Bucky’s words ringing in her ears repeatedly, of the fact that she was well capable of looking at Steve in a way that was more than just friends. Natasha swallowed the ideal words lodged in her throat; a question, rather than an answer -  _ is that all you want us to be? _ Instead, she placed a hand on her chest, pretending that she was offended by his question. “I thought we’ve established that a  _ long  _ time ago since our midnight walks.”

“Didn’t say I doubted it.” He shook his hands quickly. “I even think you’ve earned the title of  _ close _ friend, since you already know so much about me.”

“I’d better.” She grinned, shoving his arm lightly, naturally. He stared back in amusement, another smile gracing his face as Natasha deflected from the conversation. She waved the book in the air, and asked. “So, do you want to know what is going on with Jane or not?”

Steve chuckled. He knew that the moment was already lost, so he nodded his head. “Yes. Yes please.”

Natasha beamed, and began flipping to the page she’d last read. She pretended that Steve’s question didn’t bother her, pretended not to acknowledge that her heart was hammering like crazy beneath her skin. It was easy, since she was good at pretending; she made a living pretending to be other people, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have officially entered a different phase for their relationship i.e denial and ignorance of their feelings for each other! But you know what comes after that, so... ;)))
> 
> Let me know what you think of this chapter! Thank you for commenting/reading!


	8. liar, liar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one where natasha speaks russian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for disappearing, I was really busy with work and the stress from the whole pandemic situation totally killed my writing braincells. Still, I hope you enjoy this update! Lemme know what you think~

_Is that what we are? Friends?_

Natasha swallowed the words stuck in her mind for days now, ever since that night she went into Steve’s room to comfort him from his nightmare, and he had asked her that question unsuspectedly. Those words have surprisingly lasted in her mind after she had awoken in the morning, and they had gradually crept into her mind every now and then without any warning. It has been days and frankly speaking, it was driving her borderline _insane_.

It didn’t help that ever since Bucky planted that idea in her head that she wanted to be something more than just friends with Steve, she’d caught herself stealing one too many glances at him whenever he wasn’t looking. She would then find a lump in her throat, the truth looming over her head - it was hard to swallow, not since she was convinced that Bucky was maybe, perhaps, most probably - god, how much she _hates_ to admit this - right.

 _But,_ Natasha quickly chided herself, _it probably wasn’t in the way Bucky thinks._ She didn’t think she was in love with him or whatever, _no -_ Natasha has _never_ been in love. As shallow minded as it was, Natasha told herself that it was all probably just physical attraction -- she wasn’t blind after all; Steve was clearly good-looking, with a sturdy, muscular physique that she couldn’t help _but_ notice (she’d seen him shirtless working on the farm once and she could not, for the love of god no matter how much she tried, erase that image from her mind).

Or, in simpler words, maybe she was just... _l_ _onely_. That would explain why this was bothering her for days - it has been years since she was last in a long term, wholesome relationship. Her work schedule left no room for her to go for dates, even casual flings were laughable; everyone was either too intimidated by her success to make a move on her, or was breached by sheer pride and confidence that she would rather _not_ go home with them.

 _Yeah,_ Natasha mused to herself, _it was probably that - she just wanted to feel loved_.

“And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.” She grumbled under her breath hotly, marching into the stables without watching her steps and ceremoniously walking right into -- 

“Whoa, sorry!” Steve reached out in reflex, grabbing her waist to steady her. In a split second, Natasha found herself pressed into him, hands against his chest subconsciously. The sudden intimate contact was almost electrifying, sending tingles down her spine as she met his gaze. Steve tilted his head to the side, giving her a lopsided schoolboy grin that had Natasha’s heart lurching into her throat. “You alright there?”

“Y-yeah.” She managed to squeak out, voice unlike hers as Steve finally let go of his firm grasp on her waist. Her heart was thundering as she sidestepped, making way for him to exit the stable. Steve took a step forward, tipping his head slightly. “I’ll see you later, Nat.”

“See ya.” Natasha waved once, eyes lingering on his retreating back until she snapped out of her thoughts. When she turned to make her way inside the stable, she gave an inward curse when she realised Bucky and Sam had seen the entire exchange. 

“Are you alright?” Bucky couldn’t hide the glint in his eyes, knowing and teasing. “Your face is _really_ red.”

“Oh,” Natasha waved one hand quickly, the other gently brushing against her cheek - good lord, the heat was unbearable. She feigned feeling normal though, like her heart had not just raced a thousand miles in two seconds. “I’m fine. It’s just a little hot in here.”

She ignored the subtle look that was exchanged between Bucky and Sam, with the former eventually meeting her eyes with a shit eating grin she wanted to wipe off from his face if she could. Bucky was smirking, an eyebrow raised as if to challenge her with a statement she probably could guess coming from him; _Are you sure you don’t like him yet?_

Natasha ignored Bucky, looking away. She did what she does best - changing the topic briskly to the reason why she decided to drop by the horse stable that evening. “So, umm...I was wondering if I could try riding one of the horses here.”

Bucky’s expression changed in a blink of an eye, replacing into one that was rather sceptic and filled with sudden concern, if any. Natasha continued. “I’m not sure if Steve ever told you guys this but I’ve had experience learning horseback riding before years ago. I thought it would be nice to refresh my memory a little.”

Sam shrugged casually, not minding one bit. He gestured near the entrance behind Natasha, where all the protective gears were stocked. “You could try Lucinda’s helmet and chaps, they should fit you.”

“Thanks.” Natasha said, and began making her way towards the shelf when Bucky jogged over to her side. He lowered his head to whisper. “Are you sure about this?”

She raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Are you sure you _remember_ how to ride horses properly? I don’t want you to get into any misfortunes, you know.”

It was Natasha’s turn to smirk. “James Barnes, are you actually _worried_ for me?” 

Bucky huffed, crossing his arms as he watched the actress reaching out for Lucinda’s gears. “I’m just _saying._ ” He turned his head to see Sam’s back against them, busy cleaning the stable. 

“It’ll be fine, relax.” Natasha waved her hand to dismiss Bucky’s concern. “If the Queen of England can do it, so can I.”

“She kinda _grew_ up riding horses but.. _.alright_ ,” Bucky raised his hands in surrender the second Natasha gave him a sideway glare. “I’ll let you ride Marigold, she should be tame enough.”

And that was how Natasha found herself climbing onto Marigold, with Bucky keeping an extra eye out by riding beside her on Max, a black stallion. Luckily for Natasha, she could still remember her horse-riding lessons for that movie she filmed three years ago, and from the not so subtle looks of impress Bucky was giving her, Natasha sat up straighter with more confidence. She held onto the reins gently and in a relaxed manner, easing Marigold into trusting her as the horse began to walk, keeping up a comfortable pace with Max. 

“Not bad, Romanoff.” Bucky praised, using her real name only because nobody was around except them and their two horses. 

“I told you I could do it.” Natasha replied confidently. “My six months training did not go to vain after all.”

“Was that for a movie?” He asked out of genuine curiosity. 

“Yeah. It was for a period movie.” She smiled in fond memory. “It didn’t do that well in the theaters, but it was one of the movies I thoroughly enjoyed filming.”

“What is it called?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“I can find out the answer in like 10 seconds on google.”

Natasha laughed. “Still not telling you.”

“Why _not_?”

“It’s kinda embarrassing if you end up watching something I was on.” 

Bucky looked a little dumbfounded at that reasoning. He looked at her. “You _do_ know you’re an _actress_ and your job kinda warrants people to _watch_ the movies you acted in?”

“Yes, _genius_. I do know that.” Natasha remarked nonchalantly. “But you know me as Natalie _first_ and not Natasha. It’s...it’s just different.”

Bucky eased his expression. “Are you still afraid that I’ll see you differently if I watch your projects?”

There was a long pause before Natasha spoke again. “It’s just...it’s a nice feeling, you know? That I’m finally at a place where I can truly be myself without worrying about superficial things like reputation and image.” She glanced at Bucky. “Here, I’m just Natasha Romanoff under another alias, and not _A-list Actress_ Natasha Romanoff. If you do end up watching my projects, you might start associating me with the latter. And...” She sighed. “I don’t think I’m ready to face that all over again.”

“I understand.” Bucky nodded, meeting her eyes briefly. “I won’t watch them then, not until you feel comfortable enough.”

“Thank you,” Natasha exhaled calmly, smiling. “You’re sweet when you’re not annoying, you know that?”

Bucky pretended to gag. “I am neither sweet nor am I annoying, Miss Romanoff.”

“Whatever lets you sleep at night, Barnes.” She threw him a wink and earned a laugh from him in return. Comfortable silence breached over them in that moment as both their horses began to pick up speed on their command - Max and Marigold started to trot around the vast field, with Bucky and Natasha maneuvering them relaxingly. Even if it has been ages since she last rode a horse, her lessons with the instructor she had remained oddly fresh in her mind. Natasha was completely at ease; she attributed that factor to the cold breeze brushing against her face, sending locks of her hair dancing around her throat. She inhaled the spring air slowly, admiring the radiant, iridescent sunlight around her, feeling as though all the weight in the world has been lifted from her shoulders. 

“Okay, but humor me though.” Bucky started after leading them into the pathway heading back to the farm, pausing to wait for a cue from Natasha. When she raised an eyebrow, he continued. “Why haven’t you told Steve about your feelings for him yet?”

Natasha nearly lost her balance, completely taken aback by Bucky’s sudden question. She mused. “Are we still not done with that topic?” 

"Come on, it can't be healthy to keep all your thoughts within yourself. Let it all out, Natasha.” He coaxed in an all too impossible sweet tone. “You’ll feel better after expressing your feelings loudly.”

She pondered for a bit before taking a deep breath, an idea flitting into her mind. Then, without giving any preliminary warning to Bucky, Natasha started speaking in Russian. " _I don’t even know why I’m entertaining your request but I guess there’s no harm in saying this out loud since you don’t know Russian. Fine, I hate to admit it but maybe you’re right. Are you happy? I bet you are.”_ She sighed exasperatedly before continuing. _“Maybe it's true that I do see Steve in_ _that sense_. _Maybe it’s true that I want something more with him. Maybe...I don’t know. I like being around him, alright? He makes me feel comfortable and he’s always so genuine. Not that you and Sam aren’t, but...you get my point.”_ Natasha waved one hand in the air nonchalantly. 

“Nat, what -” Bucky attempted to interrupt her monologue, but she brushed him aside. Might as well finish what she’d just started, Natasha thought to herself. 

“ _I mean, have you seen him? Have you seen the way he looks? God, I can’t stand it when he acts all oblivious and stares at me with that puppy-like eyes. It’s almost illegal for someone to be that handsome and adorable at the same time. Fuck, did I actually just say that out loud? That was embarrassing to admit and I hate that I’ve become such an emotional sap. Spending all my time here has seriously messed with my brain.”_ Natasha paused to catch another breath, ignoring the obvious look of confusion (and a hint of amusement) on Bucky’s face. _“The truth is...yes, I’m attracted to Steve. But thinking about it and actually saying it out loud are two different things. I didn’t want to say anything to you because I...the words are daunting. This emotional vulnerability, it’s ridiculous. I’m not usually like this, you know. This entire experience is new even to me and I’m just...embracing these feelings slowly. I’m still trying to figure everything out, so...give me some time to really think about it.”_

Natasha stopped, finally meeting Bucky’s eyes. That was by far the longest sentence she had ever spoken to anyone on the farm, and it surprisingly felt nice to just let everything from her mind loose. She expelled her breath in a single sigh and switched back to English. “Huh, you’re right. That did make me feel better in some ways. Thanks, Bucky.”

Bucky simply stared, the edges of his lips curled upwards ever so slightly. "Okay, but _what_ just happened?"

"You told me to let it all out and that was what I did." Natasha shrugged nonchalantly. "You didn't say it has to be in English."

"Well played, Natasha. Well played." Bucky laughed, shaking his head. "But…"

"But what?"

" _I_ _may have forgotten to tell you that I speak fluent Russian, too."_

The second Natasha heard that string of sentence from Bucky, her eyes widened in utter shock. Mortified, she could _feel_ her entire face burning from the heat that had risen within her, overwhelmed with firsthand embarrassment as she twisted her body abruptly to face Bucky. “You -” 

In the midst of trying to grasp the fact that Bucky was fluent in Russian, and that he had understood her _entire_ monologue, one that she would _never_ have said out loud if she knew that Bucky spoke her language, Natasha must have pulled back Marigold’s rein sharply without even realising - her horse did not appreciate that gesture, for Marigold yanked back the rein forcefully before letting out a loud neigh. 

“Hey bud, easy there -” Bucky immediately called out, the smirk on his face disappearing as he watched Natasha in her flail attempts to calm her horse down - which, unfortunately, aggravated the situation even more. Another neigh escaped Marigold before she took an abrupt halt, flinging her body to the side in one swift motion - and down went Natasha as she lost her balance, tumbling onto the ground with a loud thud.

“Shit!” Bucky cursed, gently coaxing Max into stopping before leaping down in a hurry. “Natasha! Are you alright?!”

Bucky was greeted instead, by the sound of Natasha’s laughter, which surprised him even more. Even though she heard his question, Natasha was in a state of hysteric; she couldn’t stop laughing, eyes tearing up at each passing second. “Oh my god,” Natasha exclaimed loudly while unbuckling and removing her helmet. “I can’t believe...you... _what_?”

It was an understatement to say that Bucky was surprised by her reaction - he was _horrified_. He dropped to his knees beside the actress, hands jutted out in obvious worry. “Have you hit your head or something? Fuck, are you concussed?” 

Natasha finally glanced at Bucky, and the expression he was bearing on his face nearly sent her into another fit of laughter. She clutched her stomach, bringing her head forward. “What? You’ve ever seen a horse throw her rider down before?” Natasha teased, before adding. “Calm down, I’m honestly _fine_. I’ll probably just get some bruises but that’s no big deal.”

“ _Calm_ down? _Bruises_?” Bucky gasped loudly, almost dramatically. “Natasha, what if your agency _sues_ us for negligence?”

She grimaced. “Now you’re being overdramatic.”

“ _I’m_ being overdramatic? Woman, have you _forgotten_ your net worth?” Bucky hissed, “our insurance _won't_ be able to cover it if anything happens to you! Does it hurt anywhere?” 

Natasha rolled her eyes, but allowed Bucky to prod her limbs, checking if anything hurts. “Are you truly concerned over me or are you just worried about money?” She asked out of curiosity, to which Bucky met her eyes briefly in disbelief. “Money. _Obviously._ ” He said, his tone thick with sarcasm. Natasha chuckled. Bucky exhaled eventually, relieved to find that on the onset, Natasha didn’t seem to be suffering from any serious injury caused by the fall. “Can you stand?”

Wordlessly, Natasha adhered to Bucky’s order, or at least tried to, but pain shot up her right leg the second she tried to put pressure on it. She winced, leaning into Bucky immediately for support. Her heart raced just a little when Natasha glanced at her horrified looking friend beside her. She smiled sheepishly, biting her lower lip in an attempt to suppress the discomfort that was still lingering. “Oookay, maybe I’m not going to _just_ have bruises after all.” 

“You must have twisted your ankle or something. Marigold _did_ throw you down.” Bucky announced with a frown before he quickly asked, “Do you know the fireman’s carry?”

“Wait, you mean…”

“I’ll carry you on my shoulder.”

Natasha blinked, as if trying to picture it in her head. Then, without warning, she burst into another round of laughter, and Bucky continued to stare at her, wondering if she’d gone mad. “Wouldn’t _that_ be a sight in the papers? Imagine it,” She waved one hand across the sky. “Actress Natasha Romanoff, carried on the shoulders of a man like a sack of potatoes.”

“Ugh you’re incorrigible.” Bucky groaned. “ _Fine, woman_.” He bent down, extending his good arm backward. Natasha realised what he was planning to do of course, so she smirked. “James Buchanan Barnes, are you offering to carry me on your back?”

“Do you expect me to leave you here alone then?” Bucky retorted in return, then sighed. “Oh my god your manager is going to fucking _kill_ us. You speak to him on a regular basis, don’t you?”

“Doesn’t mean I tell him _everything_.” She complied - finding the whole situation that had just happened to her borderline ridiculous. Natasha leaned onto Bucky’s back slowly, putting her arms around his neck as he hooked his arms underneath her knees securely. He stood, almost effortlessly and Natasha let out half a giggle. “What’s so funny?” He grunted as he started to walk back towards the farm, thankfully not that far along since they were already riding on the path back. From afar, Bucky could already see Steve working by the rabbits’ pit. 

“ _You._ And _Russian_.” She placed her chin onto Bucky’s shoulder, still chuckling. “I can’t fucking believe you knew the language and you let me go on that stupid rant and you understood _everything_ I said earlier.” Bucky stifled a laugh that nearly bristled out of him, only because he was mostly still concerned over her wellbeing. " _Then_ Marigold decided that enough is enough and actually _tossed_ me down as if I was _nothing_ . This has _never_ happened to me before...it’s oddly exhilarating and fun.”

“You’ve really _hit_ your head, Natasha. You’re the _only_ person who finds it fun after getting quite literally thrown down by their horse.” Bucky scoffed in disbelief. “You could have gotten seriously injured, do you know that? Fractures, broken bones-”

“Okay, but I _didn’t_.” She persisted, poking a finger into Bucky’s shoulder to make her point. “It’s just a sprain that will go away in a few days. So _what_?”

“You’re crazy, Natasha, you’re _really_ crazy.”

“Enough about me.” Curiosity got the better of her. “ _Where_ and _when_ did you learn Russian?”

“It was an elective when I was in middle school. Steve took French, if you’re curious.”

Natasha rolled her eyes playfully. “I am not curious.”

Bucky sang in Russian. _“Liar, liar, pants on fire.”_

Natasha retorted easily in the same language. “ _You’re such a child, Barnes_.”

Bucky made it along the path midway when he spotted Steve looking at them in confusion, understanding the situation a bit later as he dropped what he was doing and started jogging towards them. “Speak of the Devil…”

Natasha immediately tightened her grip around Bucky’s neck. She warned. “You better _not_ say anything to him regarding what I just said or else-”

Bucky started to laugh. “Imagine his reaction if I tell him that you find him handsome _and_ adorable-”

She turned a scarlet red before slapping his good arm. Steve was getting closer into their hearing range so she hissed in a low tone. “ _Shh!”_

Steve slowed down in his movements, observing both of his friends with a quirked eyebrow. He was mostly concerned for the woman perched on Bucky’s back, spotting their two horses at a far distance behind them. Once they were within earshot, Steve asked hurriedly. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m fine, you two need to stop fretting.” Natasha merely stated before glancing over her shoulder. “Marigold decided she has had enough of me, that’s all. You should probably check up on her, Steve.”

“What?” Steve frowned, falling into step beside Bucky. “Did you slip and fall from Marigold?”

“She was _tossed_ down by Marigold.” Bucky corrected before feeling the sudden jab of Natasha’s elbow into his side. He flinched just a little, as she spoke again. “I think I sprained my ankle, but I’m _really_ fine.”

Steve looked aghast to learn that, his eyes filled with immediate worry. Natasha was not looking at him though - she couldn’t bear to - so he addressed his best friend instead. “I’ll meet you at Lucinda’s after I get the two horses back into the stable.”

Once Steve had jogged away, Bucky turned to the side to check if he was far enough before pretending to chide Natasha. “My god, you’re terrible at this.”

“What?” Natasha frowned.

“Did you see how worried he was? You should have acted like you are in pain!” Bucky said exasperatedly. “You’re an _actress_ , for goodness sake. Your Wikipedia says you _won_ a lot of awards!” 

She understood his intention instantly, and Natasha fought the urge to pull her arms back so she could choke-hold him. “Oh, shut up, Barnes.” She settled for that in the end, too tired to argue.

* * *

After tending to Natasha’s ankle with some ice and an elastic bandage, Bucky had been washing his hand at the kitchen sink when Steve decided to join him, leaning against the counter as nonchalantly as he could. Bucky glanced up just briefly before closing the tap to dry his hand. “What is it? You look like you have a million questions to ask.”

Steve looked away, rubbing the nape of his neck sheepishly. He didn’t speak until a few long seconds after, softly at first that Bucky almost didn’t catch his words. “When did that happen?”

“When did what happen?”

Bucky observed that Steve seemed to have difficulty in getting his next words out. The latter heaved a sigh eventually, shoving his hands in his pockets before standing straight. “When did you and Natalie become so close?”

 _Oh._ A thought flitted across Bucky’s mind, the indirect implication of Steve’s question extremely clear to him. He smirked almost at once, turning to look at his best friend before shrugging nonchalantly, as though it was no big deal. “Well, it’s been _some_ time. Why, are you _jealous_?”

“I’m not jealous.” Steve denied vehemently, almost at once, even though the tips of his ears had gone pink all of a sudden. Bucky chuckled as a response, shaking his head at how _familiar_ his answer was - no wonder they both like each other, he thought. “Anyway, did you even tell Nat?”

“Tell Nat what?”

“That you’re with Sam.” Steve lowered his voice while Bucky threw his head back to laugh before calming himself; there was no mistake in this, his best friend was definitely _jealous,_ even if he had denied it. He answered flatly, lying straight to Steve’s face. “ _No_. Where’s the fun of that?”

Steve shook his head, surprised to hear that from him. “If Sam hears you say that…”

“Please, even _Sam_ agrees that Natalie is pretty.” Bucky teased him further, even though that bit wasn’t a lie - they’ve had that conversation before comfortably, completely trusting of each other. 

Steve seemed a little bit appalled to hear that, his forehead creasing together as he frowned deeply. “It’s not right to lead someone on like that.”

Bucky nearly let out another laugh. “Look who’s talking.”

“What?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?” Bucky smirked, jabbing into his ribs roughly. “You _know_ very well what’s going on.”

Steve rubbed the spot Bucky had elbowed him, his cheeks flushed as he recalled a similar conversation he had shared with Sam. The way Bucky had behaved earlier made sense to him now - he was doing that on purpose to make him flustered. “Sam told you?”

“Sam didn’t have to tell me for me to know, you dumbass.” Bucky remarked, lowering his voice just in case Natasha or Lucinda could hear them. “Can you make a move or something already? A gentleman shouldn’t let a lady wait for too long, you should know better, Rogers.”

Steve simply smiled. “Things are going great for us these days. Why change anything?”

“Yes but it can be _better_.” Bucky dramatically held his arms together in the air, as though he was hugging someone. “Imagine all the cuddles and the hugs, imagine being able to dance with her.”

Steve watched in amusement before reaching forward to press his palm against Bucky’s forehead. “Are you okay? Do you have a fever or something?”

“I’m fine,” Bucky slapped his hand away. “I might not be okay though, if I need to endure this for another month or so.”

“Endure what?”

“You two--” He pointed towards the living room before saying bluntly, “--being utter _idiots_. Her answers are so similar to yours, no wonder you two belong with each other.”

Steve’s cheeks began to colour. “She knows?”

Bucky merely winked, withdrawing himself from the kitchen. “Why don’t you ask her yourself?” 

* * *

  
  


Later that night, Steve helped Natasha to her room, both deciding on forgoing the idea of a midnight stroll (for obvious reasons). Instead, once Natasha had settled comfortably into her bed and Steve had gotten ready to leave, she patted the space beside her and said, “Sit with me for a bit, will you?”

He complied, a part of him eagerly so. Steve didn’t tell her that though. He leaned against the bed frame, stretching his legs out as Natasha casually threw the duvet to cover his legs partially. “I’ve been doing some thinking lately,”

“Sounds dangerous.” Steve teased, and Natasha responded with a playful punch into his arm. He laughed, rubbing the spot in reflex. 

“Well,” She began again nervously. “only if you are agreeable to it of course. It’s about overcoming your nightmares.”

Steve’s smile faded a little, though he turned his head to the side so that he could meet her gaze. “Nat…”

“It’s just a suggestion.” She said gently. “You don’t have to do it if you’re not ready, but I know it would be helpful if you do.”

Steve exhaled slowly. “What do you have in mind?”

Natasha paused for a few seconds, searching his eyes to see if he would be open minded to hearing her next few words. He seemed calm, listening to her attentively without breaking eye contact with her, so she continued. “I thought you could maybe...meet Rick’s family.”

“Oh.” He simply responded. It wasn’t exactly a foreign suggestion, Steve has had that thought many times before even though he hadn’t picked up the courage to go through with it. But it still didn’t stop him from the numbness settling into the pits of his stomach, the awful, sinking feeling of having to face Rick’s loved ones. Back then, he hadn’t been the one assigned to inform Rick’s family about his demise; he had been in the hospital himself, recuperating from the injuries sustained during the war. His superior had gone instead, and by the time Steve was deemed healthy enough to be discharged, Rick’s funeral had passed.

Natasha nudged his arm gently with hers. “Tell me what you’re thinking, Steve.” 

Steve shook his head. “It’s been years and I...to show up...after all this time...they probably hate me. They wouldn’t want to see me.”

There was a pause before Natasha mused. “I didn’t know you could read people’s minds.” 

He chuckled on reflex, noting her sarcasm. “Nat, I was being serious.”

“You’re thinking of things that aren’t certain or may not even happen. We have a term for that - it’s called overthinking.” She said kindly. “You’ll never know until you try. The results might surprise you for all you know.”

“But…”

“Wouldn’t it be better knowing you’ve tried, than live the rest of your life guessing what would have happened if you tried?”

“I guess you have a point.”

“It’s really still up to you but,” Natasha shrugged. “it might just be the closure you need.” 

Steve nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

“But not _too_ long though.” She quipped, and Steve smiled. “Alright, I promise.”

Silence lapsed over them, and Steve wondered if he should take his leave now. Part of him didn’t want to, though, if he was being honest. It was comfortable and somewhat calming, as it always was, just sitting beside Natasha. In the flicker of a moment, Steve began to hear Bucky’s words in his mind, urging him to talk to her. He was part curious and part _terrified,_ there was a risk of discomfort that may arise if he brought up that particular topic and he didn’t want that to happen between them.

Turns out that he didn’t have to, because Natasha took the baton and spoke first instead, a bold, upfront question that widened his eyes in immediate response. "Would you stay with me until I fall asleep?”

Steve was surprised at her request, but he welcomed it, nonetheless. “Okay.” 

Wordlessly, Natasha snuggled just a little into his side. He didn’t dare move, not until a few quiet minutes after when he began to relax, listening to his own heart beating in his ears. For a moment, he wondered if Natasha could hear it too. If she did, she didn’t show any indication. 

Steve had the thought to leave right after Natasha fell asleep; that was all she asked from him anyway. But he found his eyelids drooping shut first, the urge to go back to his room disappearing slowly until eventually, he’d fallen asleep. Natasha fell into slumber shortly after. Steve slept through the night easily without any dreams or nightmares. It was the best sleep both of them had gotten in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise there's a development in stevenat's relationship in the next chapter ;)


	9. all is finally right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one with the closure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, Dear SteveNat fandom. 
> 
> Allow me to apologise for disappearing for two months. Work has been crazy and I have been extremely stressed in these two months that went by. I will be honest and say that I am no longer active in the MCU fandom, nor do I have much inspiration to finish writing this fic. I thought it would be rather unfair for you guys, being such loyal and nice readers, that this fic did not have an ending. So, I decided to write this one final update as a closure for this fic and to all of you. At the end of the fic, I have also included a bunch of Notes detailing what I had initially planned for the rest of this fic to be. I am truly sorry for not being able to finish this fic, I know how much this story has made some of you happy, therefore I could only afford to give this update and the closure you need.
> 
> To all my readers who have stuck with me since my first SteveNat fic; thank you. I wouldn't have been able to write close to 305k words for the fandom if not because of you. And even though I have shifted to a different fandom, please know that SteveNat will always have a special place in my heart, and who knows, when Black Widow finally comes out, my inspiration to write for this OTP may be rekindled again. Until then, take care and god bless!
> 
> Also, side note! I have recently created a Ko-fi page so if any of you feel like helping a poor writer out, feel free to check it out [Here](https://ko-fi.com/choi_kimmy#paymentModal) and buy me a coffee! (Don't feel obligated to, though!) Thanks a bunch, but really, don't feel obliged to. I just thought that after so many years of being a content creator, I could just try to get something practical out of it (since reality isn't very kind to me these days but I digress).

**To: Maria**

Hey, can I ask you something? It’s about a friend of mine.

**To: Natasha**

Go on.

**To: Maria**

If my friend can’t stop thinking about this guy, and if she’s getting thoughts that aren’t semi appropriate to disclose over a text, what does this mean?

**To: Natasha**

It means your friend is an absolute idiot and she should get her head out of her ass because she obviously  _ likes _ him.

**To: Maria**

That’s a rather quick assumption to make.

**To: Natasha**

You  _ did  _ ask for my opinion.

So…

**To: Maria**

So…?

**To: Natasha**

Does this guy know that you like him yet?

**To: Natasha**

Are you ghosting me?

**To: Natasha**

I can’t believe it.

* * *

Before she knew it, another uneventful month had gone by. One month filled with Bucky giving both Steve and Natasha endless looks of exasperation, and Steve and Natasha actually  _ knowing  _ by then that they had a mutual liking for each other (though to be fair it really wasn’t something that was difficult to see or acknowledge, given how Bucky, Sam and even Lucinda wouldn’t stop hinting for them to get together). It was difficult to explain why neither made a move towards each other, just that something was clearly still holding them back. It didn’t, however, affect their relationship with each other in any way - in fact, it grew even more over the 30 days that had gone by, with Natasha boldly spending most of her nights just strictly sharing the same bed with Steve. She did it with the rationale that being in the presence of each other actually helped both of them get better sleep each night, and she knew Steve echoed her sentiments because the pipes in the farmhouse had long been fixed, yet he remained put at Lucinda’s. When Natasha woke up with Steve’s arms wrapped around her torso, it felt really nice -- words she wouldn’t admit out loud otherwise. Companionship was something she (and Steve) had sorely missed. Bucky never did believe that their arrangement was strictly platonic, but Natasha honestly didn’t mind that he didn’t. 

Bucky gave up trying to get his friends to admit they had feelings for each other. Instead, he decided to ask Natasha a question out of the blue one day, one that threw her off guard.

“There’s something that I have to ask you.” He had started the conversation slowly. “Please know that I have to ask this because I care for Steve and I don’t want him to get hurt later on.”

Natasha simply gestured for him to continue, and he did, a few seconds after. “How long are you planning on staying in the farm?”

She frowned, her tone honest when she replied, “I can’t answer something I don’t know, Bucky.”

“I’m asking because…” Bucky sighed. “I have a feeling you would be leaving one day.”

It was as though someone had reached into her heart and squeezed it, the feeling impalpable yet she understood exactly why Bucky had asked this question. So much so that Natasha couldn’t respond to his statement, couldn’t counter to tell him that he was worried over nothing - because in some ways, Bucky was right. Life on the farm was calming and had so far been a delight to her but for how long was she going to live that life? 

For how long was she going to pretend to be Natalie Rushman, an office lady who had gotten tired of her life in the city, and had decided to seek recovery in the countryside? Her whole life had been pretending to be someone she was not, and here she was doing exactly the same thing, lying to a bunch of people who were nothing but nice to her; another round of acting, only that now she had an impromptu script in front of her instead of what she had to memorise lines for.

Bucky’s question was somehow a wake up call to her, one that led to Natasha deciding that she would finally come clean to Steve, Lucinda and Sam. She did it on a Sunday morning, surprisingly calmer than she would have expected as she drew the words out from her mouth. Then, she waited with bated breath for their reactions. 

Lucinda and Sam didn’t seem to mind; the former telling Natasha that she could be a member of the royal family and it wouldn’t change how she would treat her, or how she felt for her. Sam was stunned for a moment, but recollected himself quickly to say that he never did care much about the entertainment business anyway. To him, she was still the Natalie he had befriended for weeks now.

Steve, on the other hand, hid his emotions behind a small smile he had managed to muster. Natasha was almost terrified to hear what he has to say, but Steve remained positively silent, giving her little to no reaction except a nod of agreement to what Lucinda and Sam had told her. Natasha didn’t know that the reason for his silence was not because Steve had been surprised at her identity, it was because of the fact that Bucky knew about this before he did.

Steve didn’t want to admit it, but deep down, he was jealous. Bucky seemed to know more about Natasha than he did, even though he had believed that he was someone she could trust. 

Natasha didn’t want to pry, believing that he needed some space after learning such an information from her, so she left him be. Subsequently, when Steve went out to catch some fresh air, Bucky had followed him.

“Hey,” He called out. “You really should have said something back there.”

Steve barely acknowledged his best friend, only giving him a small shrug.

“You mean a lot to her, you know.” Bucky went on to say, and this time, his sentence caught Steve’s attention. He turned around to look at his best friend, an eyebrow arched. “I don’t know about that, Buck.”

“You  _ do _ .” Bucky insisted, taking a step forward. “The reason why she decided to tell all of you her secret was mostly because of you.”

Steve didn’t want to believe Bucky’s words at once. Instead, he asked. “And you would know, how?” 

“Because,” Bucky waved his hand in the air exasperatedly. “Natasha values you enough that lying to you made her feel bad. She didn’t want there to be secrets between the two of you because she  _ likes _ you. Haven’t we already established that a long time ago?”

Steve kept mum, taking in Bucky’s words slowly. He continued. “The two of you like each other, and you’ve been skirting around each other carefully for the past month. It’s high time you do something about it, Steve.”

“But she’s…”

“She’s what?”

Steve sighed. “A celebrity. Someone of a high status. And I’m a nobody. Why would she want to be with someone like me? Someone with a past baggage?”

Bucky shot his best friend an incredulous look. “Steve, trust me when I say that all the things you’ve just mentioned? They mean nothing to Natasha.” He paused. “Shouldn’t you know by now that Natasha is happiest when she is around you? Shouldn’t that account for something that has nothing to do with her job, or yours?”

Steve’s forehead creased, but not out of confusion, but more of a quiet realisation. Bucky tried again, after a minute of silence. “Give yourself a chance, Steve. Give her a chance, too. If it makes the two of you happy, shouldn’t you do that at the very least? Don’t you think the two of you deserve that?”

Steve looked at Bucky, and the answer to his question gradually wormed its way to his heart, loud and clear.

* * *

Two evenings later, Steve and Natasha went for another midnight stroll. They didn’t say much initially, merely walking beside each other, hands brushing against each other’s yet neither drew their hands back. All the while with words forming in his mind as Steve tried to string along coherent sentences that he’d been trying his best to utter since the last conversation he had with Bucky.

This time, Natasha beat him to it though. 

"What are we, Steve?" She asked, her voice soft and measured.

He didn’t know how to answer her. It was rather apparent by now that Bucky was right. The both of them liked each other, yet there was still something holding them back.

"Bucky seems to think we could be more than just friends." Steve settled for that in the end. It was a safe thing to say, after all, something he knew to be true.

"Do you want that?" Natasha tilted her head to the side, the question slipping out of her boldly even before she could stop herself. "Be more than just friends."

“I’m...well…” Steve stuttered, eyes trained on her. “I don’t oppose that possibility.”

Natasha laughed. “You know, friends don’t look at each other like that.” 

“They don’t.” He agreed, and that seemed to be the push that Natasha needed for her to say what was on her mind.

“At first, I was thinking too much.” She started. “I’ve never had a relationship that lasted more than five months. It would be easy to blame it all on the media for ruining my relationships but...but they never truly mattered to me.”

It was a confession that eased the weight in her heart, Natasha thought to herself. Once the words were out in the air, the subsequent words were easy for her to say to Steve. “Do you know?” She asked, chuckling. “No man I’ve dated before has ever made me feel this way. The sense of security, the way I trust you so easily. How at ease you make me feel.”

Steve could feel his cheeks burning at her words. By then, both of them had stopped walking, instead, they were facing each other.

“What I’m trying to say is...Steve,” Natasha took a deep breath, trying to calm her jittering nerves. “I don’t want to dwell in the past anymore. I want to live in the current moment. I like you. I don’t know if you feel the same way as I do but...I really like you.”

The confession left Natasha a little breathless, her pulse quickening at every passing second where Steve remained quiet. He was looking at her, though, but he was not saying anything. Not until a moment later, after he had pushed all his worries to the back of his mind -- if Natasha could do it, so could he.

“Nat,” Steve began softly, taking a step closer. “I like you too.”

Her heart stuttered in her chest when she heard that. But from the expression Steve was wearing on his face, Natasha knew that he wasn’t done with his sentence. She had an idea what he was about to say, so she shook her head. “You’re overthinking, Steve. You deserve to at least  _ try _ .”

“I don’t want to be a burden to you.” He breathed out. 

“You wouldn’t.” She stated firmly. “I may be an actress, I may have made many mistakes, many rash decisions. But at the end of the day...I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.” She smiled softly, hands still clasped together, holding onto Steve’s gaze. She could see the gentle swirls of emotions in his eyes, his features softening at her words. Natasha took another step closer nervously, right into his proximity. “What do you say, Steve? Would you...would you try?”

Steve reached one hand out, resting it on her cheek. She held her breath in anticipation, almost too afraid to move, afraid to break their eye contact. Finally, he smiled, eyes crinkling in reciprocity.

In the pale moonlight, surrounded by nothing but the gentle, cold breeze and the sound of crickets singing, Steve pushed all his hesitancy aside, and pressed his lips against her forehead; the gesture wasn’t grand, but it was enough for Natasha. She knew that it was a promise from Steve that he would try, that he was already trying to be better for her, that he wouldn’t hurt her. It was a sign that he cared for her, and that he was willing to protect her, a sense of comfort and a degree of intimacy that Natasha felt from the way he pulled back, quiet eyes still lingering on hers. They spoke volumes of what Steve was trying to tell her.

“Yes,” Steve murmured, still smiling. “for you, I’ll try.”

And then, he kissed her. 

Natasha smiled against his lips, pressing her body flushed against his as Steve deepened the kiss. 

All was finally right.

* * *

NOTES:

1) Shortly after Natasha and Steve started dating officially, Natasha's location was finally exposed upon a local spotting her while she was out on a date in town with Steve. Reporters and journalists started to flock the farm, and Nick arrived immediately after the news broke out in the media that Natasha's hiatus was due to an unexpected romance. Nick decided that to mend the damage that has been made to Natasha's reputation, she has to follow him back to New York. 

2) Natasha complied, believing that it was the right thing to do -- she didn't want to burden Sam, Lucinda, Bucky and most importantly, Steve, who had gotten a lot of traction and attention ever since the news broke out that he was her new boyfriend. Natasha didn't want to propel him into the fame that nearly took her soul, so she decided to cut things with him, apologising that their happiness was short lived.

3) Natasha went back to New York, and life pretty much went back to how it was before. She was miserable, but nothing could be done to salvage the situation except to accept a high profile movie offer. She found herself constantly thinking about Steve and the rest of her friends back in the farm.

4) Steve misses Natasha, and remembered that she had asked him to visit Rick's family as a form of closure for him so that he could cope better with his PTSD. He did, in the end, visit Rick's family, to which his mother and sister were grateful for his visit. They told him that Rick only had good words for him as he was a good Team Captain, and that they have never once blamed him for Rick's death. Rick's mother told Steve that if he ever found someone he truly loved, never let her go.

5) Steve listened to that piece of advice, and found himself on the next flight to New York.

6) Natasha was shocked to see Steve outside her hotel, and the two reconciled. They were both very happy to see each other, even though Natasha worries for him because if any reporters spotted him, it could be detrimental to his privacy. Natasha finally also apologised that she had lied to him since the first time they'd met, only to have Steve thanked her instead of showing up at the farmhouse. He told her that he loves her, and wants to spend the rest of his life with her.

7) “I didn’t know why I was feeling that way, only that I wanted to see you. Every day, I hoped I could see you again. I really like you, Natasha. No, I love you.”

8) Natasha warned Steve that being with her meant signing away his privacy forever. It would mean people digging up his past and all that he had done so far. It would mean subjecting himself to public scrutiny and criticisms. Was he ready for that? 

9) When Steve hesitated, Natasha pretended it didn't hurt. 

10) Steve left for Alaska again, and they don't communicate with each other after that. 

11) Months later, Natasha has a press conference for her movie, and in that movie, a journalist decided to bring up Steve once again. Referring to him as "her non-celebrity lover", Natasha got annoyed. Not caring for her reputation, Natasha spoke up for the first time:

12)  "Put some respect to his name, he is a war veteran who has saved thousands of lives. He's a hero, not someone you could reduce to just being my lover. And for the record, he doesn't care about my status. He sees me for who I really am, he loves me despite all the flaws I have. He has shown me so many things in that short period of time we have known each other and I will not have you badmouthing the man I'm in love with--" 

13) It was chaos in the press conference, as Nick tried to calm the crowd down. Natasha decided that she no longer cared for what her agency would think of her, so she snatched the microphone from Nick and admitted:

"Yes, I am in love with Steve Rogers and I dare say that I do not deserve him. I am sorry that our lives got entangled in the most unexpected ways possible, I am sorry that because of me he's put in the spotlight without consent - but most of all I'm sorry that he has to love someone like me. I think he deserves better." 

“Now if you would excuse me,” Natasha exhaled shakily, standing slowly, but with a certain degree of conviction. “There’s somewhere else I need to be right now.”

14) Back in Alaska, Natasha's press conference had been reported on the news, and everyone in the farm has seen it. It kickstarted something within Steve, and when he looked at Lucinda, she merely casted him a knowing look and asked him what he was waiting for and that he should "go get our girl back". That spurred Steve into rushing out of the house, straight to the airport. He knew he had to see Natasha rightaway.

15) Hours later when he finally reached the airport, there was a huge commotion happening. Steve didn't really register it until he turned around and he saw Natasha standing there. She was surprised to see him there, having just gotten off a private jet that Pepper had arranged for her.

16)  "Yes." was the first thing Steve told Natasha once they were within earshot with each other. It was a reply to her question months back in the hotel room when she asked if he could handle being in a relationship with her. "My answer is yes."

17) "I don't care if I have to live in the spotlight, it doesn't matter to me as long as it is with you. I don't care about the gossip or the rumours or the tabloids making up stories. I care that I can be with you. I want to be with you, Natasha." Steve confessed, almost breathless. "I can't give you anything, but I can give you my heart."

18) This was Natasha's reply; "Remember when I told you that this isn't my world? It isn't, because _you_ are my world, Steve. And I don't want to lose you again."

19) Natasha decided after that, that she was going to retire from the entertainment industry. She loved living in the farm, and most importantly, she loved being surrounded with people she genuinely cared for. Of course, Maria, Pepper and Yelena, Nick visited her a few times, all of them happy to see her finally finding the happiness that she needs.

20) The Epilogue is that many years down the wrote, Natasha was approached by a Director in Alaska. The Director wanted to write their love story into a movie, and was asking her permission to do so. (It is up to your interpretation if she said yes or no to that request) 

And they all lived happily ever after. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P/S: the line "I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her." is taken from Notting Hill, the movie that started this entire fic. 
> 
> I hope the Notes provided the closure you need for this fic. Much love, and take care <3


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